Vertical

This blog and my speeches contain frequent references to what we see as the big shifts the book publishing industry, and some publishers more than others, are feeling. The horizontal and format-specific product-centric media of the 20th century are inexorably yielding to the vertical and format-agnostic community-centric delivery environment for content that will soon predominate.

In that context, we’ve observed that the most general publishers are the most challenged. The distinction between publisher and retailer is blurring; in a decade or two it will be a distinction without much difference. What has always been the source of competitive advantage to trade publishers is leverage; they could reach thousands, tens of thousands, or even millions of customers for their wares through retail channels that aggregated audiences for content creators and curated content for consumers.

The non-trade components of the book business: publishers of textbooks, professional information, databases, and academic content already tended to specialize by subject so the challenge of being audience-specific, a prerequesite to creating community, had already been met. Non-trade publishers had never depended much on horizontal intermediaries. Even in college textbook publishing, which depended (and still largely does) on the college bookstore to actually deliver the product and collect the consumer’s money, the marketing component of the bookstore’s contribution was and is minimal. The publisher works vertically through a network of professors to drive adoptions, and adoptions are what drive the sales.

Trade publishers, which are called trade publishers because they reach consumers through “the trade” network of bookstores, libraries, and the wholesalers that serve them, have been generally alert since the 1970s to the importance of what are generically called “special sales”. Those are sales that come from outside the book trade, often from retailers in other channels. Special sales experts learned pretty quickly that you did better when you had a selection of books for an audience. If you had one book of Jewish interest, you couldn’t do much with it. If you had a dozen, it could make sense to buy a mailing lists of rabbis. If you had one home repair book, you couldn’t afford the cost of setting up relationships with retailers of hardware or construction materials (particularly thinking back to days before those outlets had consolidated into giant retailers like Home Depot and Loew’s.) But if you had a list, then the mutual interest in a relationship was obvious to both sides.

Some publishers specialized. When I was consulting with Wiley in the 1980s as they were developing their fledgling trade program, they brought their philosophy of really covering the needs of a vertical market from sci-tech to trade. They didn’t want just one resume book for job-hunters: they wanted one at every sensible price point and different ones for different kinds of jobs. One day a sales rep called in from the road to suggest that they deliver a book on the cover letters that should go out with resumes. They already knew they had a market through specialized customers of all kinds and through their direct mail efforts. The lists that worked for resume books would also work for cover letter books.

The most “general” of the general trade publishers tended not to develop the same depth of specialized lists. When Wiley considered that cover letter book, they knew they’d be able to sell it very efficiently and they knew it would enhance their relationship with individuals and channel partners through and to which they were already selling a lot of books. Would the cover letter book be big? Possibly not, but it didn’t have to be to make it clearly worth doing.

But the big trade houses were not built that way. And the biggest books, the sexiest books, the most exciting books, don’t tend to be in niches. In fact, niche identification can dampen sales in a general trade market. The CEO of a major house told me a couple of years ago that he didn’t want to label a book that could become a betseller a “mystery” title. Mystery was a “category” (read: “niche”) and, while those books tended to meet theshhold expectations more readily, he perceived them as harder to break out to the sales levels they could achieve if they were perceived as unique.

We are now seeing the early signs of what will soon be a tendency, then a trend, and then a stark reality: you just can’t sell as many copies of most books if you don’t have a proprietary position with a vertical audience. The early signs are evident through companies like O’Reilly Media (computer programming and technology), Hay House (mind body spirit), Chelsea Green (sustainable living), Harvard Common Press (cookbooks and pregnancy-childbirth), and F+W Media (several niches, including writers and crafts), which have special retail channels and huge email lists of individual customers that the big houses simply don’t. Niche by niche, the big houses will find it impractical to publish in areas that were once productive for them. Their need for each book to be “big” individually — for the single title to provide its own critical mass — works against what you must do to be “big” in a niche. To do that requires a more across-the-list kind of thinking that is counterintuitive to a company that makes the lion’s share of its sales through trade channels.

So for just about all the books that aren’t novels, memoirs, celebrity-driven, or epic works of popular history or politics, trade publishers are increasingly handicapped. Unfortunately for them, things are going to get worse.

The obvious problem is that the capacity of the general trade market to merchandise and move product is diminishing. I hate to invoke the old wisdom that many things happen “gradually, then suddenly”, but it is often true and we have been gradually losing bookstores for the past decade. What happens to the economics of the big publishers if we lose a big chunk of superstores pretty suddenly?

I recall a dinner conversation with the Chairman  of a large diversified multi-niche publisher two years ago. Even back then, we were speculating about the possible sudden demise of Borders. (Hey! It hasn’t happened; maybe we were wrong!) My dinner companion said, “you know, Mike, we’re as diversified as a publisher can be, but if Borders went out, we’d definitely feel it. It would really hurt us.”

“Temporarily,” I said. He needed me to explain.

“Sure, you’ll suffer a bad debt if they go out. That hurts right now. But over the next couple of years, you’ll get a lot of cheap and useful assets from competitors of yours that couldn’t withstand the blow. By a couple of years from now, you’ll be ahead.”

“You may be right,” he said.

So even with the obvious problem, a multi-niche publisher has a big advantage over a general publisher, just as it does over smaller niche players. But the ground for the general publishers is about to shift in ways that will be even more challenging.

Because “book publishing” in an increasingly vertical world is less and less about content sales in the unit of “books” (although that will be the lion’s share of revenue for a long time) and more and more about sales bigger than the book (databases that stretch across many books and other things too) or smaller than the book (chapters or fragments that naturally stand alone or which address a particular content need.) The iPhone app as a unit of delivery is accelerating the latter trend. The value of a database across titles has long been demonstrated by O’Reilly’s “Safari” offering, which generates more revenue for them than all but one trade account.

As the percentage of a publisher’s revenue that is generated by fragments and aggregations rises, so does the value of being vertical and, especially, so does the value of a direct relationship with the end users. The fragments piece is especially important, especially challenging, and requires new ways of thinking (and perhaps new contracts.) For example, Dominique Raccah, the visionary leader of Sourcebooks, whose Poetry Speaks is building a model for vertical community building, has found that many publishers of poetry aren’t sure they have the rights to license her vertical to sell individual poems! Does that mean she has to go directly to the poets for those rights? And how long will it be before it is more important to a poet to have their individual poems available for sale on Poetry Speaks than to have them available in a publisher’s collection bound as a book?

Bruce Shaw, the longtime empresario of Harvard Common Press, is demonstrating another aspect of this thinking that we’ve expected for a long time but hadn’t seen in practice before. He told us about a macaroni and cheese cookbook his house was considering for publication. Normally, Bruce reports, that’s a subject they’d skip because it just isn’t distinctive enough to make the ambitous sales targets he normally sets for print publications. But, in this case, he’s doing the book because his overall recipe database (all the thousands of recipes HCP has published in over 30 years in business) is light on mac and cheese recipes. So he’s willing to publish the book, knowing he’s going to make less profit than he normally requires, because it is a subsidized way to improve the value of his overall database of recipes.

The question of selling fragments opens up a host of other challenges: figuring out what is a saleable fragment, tagging it with an identifier and metadata, managing transaction costs for a much higher volume or low-value transactions, and retro-fitting accounting systems to process author royalties that will require increasingly complex analysis of smaller amounts of money.

In fact, there is opportunity on what might be viewed as a micro- or nano-level of transaction, too small for even a niche publisher to manage the customer relationship and the transaction. That is going to present new opportunities for our client, Copyright Clearance Center, which we’ll elaborate on in future posts.

There’s a great deal of new opportunity out there but a lot of it is in pennies, not hundred dollar bills.

Let’s hear it for Wifi in the air! This is the first post for The Shatzkin Files filed from an airplane. Boy, did I have fun at Spring Training!

Bookmark It:

I was extremely fortunate in my “choice” of parents. I had both admiration and affection for them, and I always had a great time just shooting the bull with my dad, Leonard Shatzkin. He was a real visionary about the publishing business and was also very witty and cogent. A great deal of what passes for my insight is really just a recycling of his.

He died in May of 2002. Until the last six months or so of his life when the heart failure that killed him so weakened him that he couldn’t really think anymore, he was still working hard on what he always considered to be the most important commercial challenge for book publishers: how to manage the inventory in retail locations. In fact, he was developing a system he hoped to commercialize as a solution for independent stores. I didn’t want to say “what independent stores?” to him back then, even though it was already obvious to me that their existence was seriously threatened. Dad had shaped his view of publishing during the 1950s, when the industry was near the front end of what was nearly half-a-century of unfettered growth.

That period of growth was over by 2000, and those of us who were trying to measure the trajectory of digital change in the early 2000s couldn’t avoid seeing it. Dad might have seen it 10 or 20 years earlier, but he was intellectually and emotionally incapable of accepting it in the last few years of his life. In fact, while taking control of the inventory in independent bookstores had been the key to the growth Dad fostered at Doubleday in the 1950s and in building the Collier Books imprint, which he created, for what we now call Macmillan I in the 1960s, it didn’t present the same level of opportunity in the 2000s. He had been right for many years about this, but he wasn’t anymore.

Another immutable truth in my father’s picture of book publishing which also turned out not to be permanent was his belief that book publishers should just keep expanding their lists, pretty much without limits. When Dad launched Collier Books by doing 600 titles a year in 1962, the entire industry only produced about 10,000 titles. In Dad’s time, it was probably true that most books big houses did contributed to profits, so the more titles you did, the more profits you made. Tom McCormack, who was a protege of Dad’s in the late 1950s and then went on to a long and successful career as CEO of St. Martin’s Press (now part of Macmillan II), attributed much of his success and St. Martin’s to Tom’s own recycling of Dad’s insight.

There is this beast in publishing known as the “title P&L.” The “title P&L” proceeds from the mistaken premise that titles, standing alone, deliver profits or make losses. In fact, that’s not true, because a substantial chunk of a publishing house’s costs are not title-specific; some costs are not really attributable in any sensible way.

The way “title P&L”s normally work is that “overhead” — rent, salaries, etc. — is figured as a percentage of sales (which, if you look back to last year, is, indeed, a calculable number across any company.) By “distributing” the unattributable costs that way, the logic says, you make sure that each book covers its “share” of the costs of keeping the doors open. But, as McCormack pointed out many times over his career, the rent didn’t go up because he signed a new title and it was nonsensical to charge each title, let alone each sale, for the rent.

Dad had a very succinct and persuasive way to explain the folly of the “title P&L” logic. What he suggested is that every house do a recalculation of their overall P&L at the end of each year. To do it, they should take out every title that failed to earn back the overhead charge (usually somewhere between 35% and 45%) because those had, by the internal logic, “lost money.” Surely, if you take out all the titles that lost money, you would see your overall calculation of profits rise. Right?

But it never does, it always falls. Why is that? Because most of the titles deemed to have lost money by “title P&L” logic actually made a contribution to overhead. That is, the direct revenues attributable to that title were greater than the direct expenses charged to it; they just weren’t sufficient to be scored as profitable when the overhead tax was deducted. But if you subtract all the books that earned 6% or 10% or 19% or 34% margin on sales, you subtract actual dollar contributions to overhead and profit.

Important point: overhead and profit are both produced by gross margin on sales. When enough margin has been generated to cover all the overheads, the margin becomes profit. So titles don’t earn profits or losses, they contribute more money or less to overhead and, in some cases, actually don’t recover their direct costs. The titles that don’t recover their costs clearly have lost money; all other titles contribute to overhead and, if it is covered, to profits, but they aren’t, strictly speaking, profitable in and of themselves.

All that was true in Dad’s day and is still true today. What has changed (I think; I haven’t actually done the analysis with a real house’s numbers) is that the percentage of titles that don’t even recover their direct costs is rising. It is actually getting harder and harder to publish new titles successfully, even if the standard of success is lowered to “recovered all costs” from “delivered its pro rata contribution to overhead.”

That’s because each title published today is facing a much more challenging commercial environment than each title published two, three, four, or five decades ago. Each title competes with more titles in the marketplace and more new titles coming into the marketplace: print-on-demand and online used books have snared a great deal of market share that used to be available only to new titles and backlist kept alive in print-run quantities by publishers. And, for the past 10 years, each new title is coming into a marketplace that has less shelf space available for books overall than it had for the last title.

So the “keep publishing more and more” paradigm that Dad believed in and that McCormack credited with St. Martin’s growth may not actually work anymore. In fact, any sentient publisher today would have to look at their output regularly to recalibrate what new title publishing is actually profitable. I expect that analysts in every major house are slicing and dicing their lists, trying to figure out whether they can discern — by level of advance or subject matter or by imprint or editor or agent — which bets will return the cash invested and bring profit to the house.

We can assume those analyses are being done, but can we assume they’re being done right? Without any inside view of the details (and I don’t have one), we’ll assume (hope) that the crude application of a single overhead percentage to each title is not the standard for analysis. If it is, the house doing that will almost certainly be led to erroneous conclusions, just as Dad and Tom pointed out they were if they saw a book that contributed 30% margin as “unprofitable” and would think they’d be better off not publishing it.

The big publisher of 2010 has another problem besides the reality that new titles are harder and harder to launch to any standard of acceptable return. They also have to feed a machine built to handle a certain volume of printed books when the decline of print book sales is being accelerated by the shift to digital. The additional margins in digital (which are being produced as long as prices can be maintained) are not very helpful if they need to be diverted to pay for warehouse space, field sales forces, and higher unit printing costs because there is less print “throughput” to support them.

Big publishing management is aware of this challenge; it is part of what drives up the value (and prices) of big brand franchise authors. The big authors are still the fastest way to guarantee the volume of print output and sales necessary to fill those volume-guarantee contracts with the printers, absorb the warehouse space, and cover the cost of calling on accounts that sell print only. And look at the irony. With less volume, unit costs per book go up, which reduces total gross margin. And if warehouse and sales organization costs are fixed (they aren’t but it is hard to adjust them quickly, the way you can cut a press run or a marketing spend), then the percentage of sales they will consume will go up. So much for calculations of overhead as a percentage!

The big variable publishers have to deal with today is marketing cost. The most common rationale for list-cutting is that it will allow a greater amount of marketing attention to the books that are published. But that articulation actually begs the question, because marketing resources are variable. If you add more, you increase the overhead nut you have to cover before you get to profits. And if you reduce those resources, then you’ll be chasing your tail trying to put more marketing effort behind each title.

The analysis of how to cut has to be done; it is pure insanity for publishers to keep cranking out new titles if they are losing on many of them. Some of the ones they lose on have the potential to be big but just don’t make it; some aren’t even seen to have that potential. But the ultimate answer is not in how or how much a publisher can reduce title output, but in how they focus it. That’s the secret to reducing marketing costs and it is something we will certainly explore in another post someday.

Bookmark It:

A simple and perfectly sensible suggestion emerged on the Brantley email list yesterday but the conversation around it showed that some stark realities about the book world have not yet been taken on board, even in very sophisticated circles (which this list is.)

The list discussed a suggestion from librarian Josh Greenberg  that publishers take note of the “rental” model built into the iTunes store as an alternative way to collect money from readers for ebooks.

Greenberg’s piece calls out a fact that many people in publishing have a great deal of difficulty with: that all ebook sales must be licensing deals. They can’t be anything else. Greenberg says:

“When we think about iTunes, we think about a basic fee-for-purchase model. We’ll just leave aside the fact that you never truly “own” a digital file, you’re just buying a particularly-structured license to use it…”

He’s right. When you deal in printed books, you have a tangible object. When you deal in ebooks, you only have “code”. The first sale doctrine says you can re-sell the book or lend it or share it. But copyright law says you can’t re-sell, lend, or share copyrighted “code.” Many digerati (and many librarians not named Josh Greenberg) refuse to acknowledge this distinction.

But that’s a legal point, one that can be debated until a court or a Congress makes a ruling (and then beyond, actually, since we continue to fight battles even after courts or Congress have rendered their conclusion.) The challenge to Greenberg’s idea of switching to a rental model is not so debatable. It’s practical.

Implementing new models for book sales requires herding cats. It can never be done fast and many business ideas relating to content have foundered because it couldn’t be done at all.

What should be clear to anybody who has been following developments since the days a decade or more ago whenRocketbook and Softbook and Sprout were trying to get publishers to give them rights for their content propositions is that it takes a very persuasive sales pitch to get publishers to do so. That sales pitch must be delivered publisher by publisher, and then the impressive ability of publishers to discuss a problem to death takes over, and the new proposition might itself die before its owner gets an answer. Or certainly before its owner gets enough answers to get the new idea off the ground.

What was further made clear by the participation of agents at Digital Book World, and particularly by the opinions expressed by superagent Robert Gottlieb on the ebook “timing” panel, is that the publishers don’t make this decision without consulting with their upstream gatekeepers. Gottlieb made clear that a) it takes a very small number of lost hardcover sales to make an author’s book slip notches on the New York Times Bestseller list, b) he and his authors believe that a much cheaper ebook, or perhaps any ebook at all not reported as a hardcover sale, can make that critical difference between being Number 1 or being much further down the list, and c) the difference in several places on that list is worth losing some sales over.

So just imagine how Gottlieb and his star clients (and all the other agents and star clients) would react to a rental model!

Let’s add one more point before the next great suggestion is made. The same thing will be true of an even better model than rental (which also has plenty of precedent in media even closer to publishers, audio books): subscription sales.

The switch that Apple has made to the “agency model” is not of equivalent complexity from a business perspective. There we’re still “selling the book” (although we’re really licensing access to a file) and the amount of money flowing to the publisher is comparable. But, even there, the switch will not be simple. Publishers have signed contracts governing almost all their ebook sales (which is a further demonstration that this is different from selling physical books, for which signed contracts between publishers and vendors is by far the exception, not the hard and fast rule) which one could imagine the purchasing party (Amazon, Ingram, Content Reserve, Barnes & Noble, Kobo) believes prevents the publisher from changing the rules in the middle of the game.

What Michael Cader reported last week which we expanded on in a blog post and a CNN interview is that publishers can use the new agency model to hold back books from channels where they can’t control the pricing. This very much underreported exchange between Steve Jobs and Walter Mossberg of the Wall Street Journal makes it very clear that Apple expects vendors who would undercut the pricing publishers set for them will be denied access to the content.

We can look forward to continued battles over pricing and over the terms of sale between publishers and the downstream players in the ebook supply chain. But I think it will be a while before real alternative distribution schemes to the public make any appearances. In fact, they’re likely to occur in vertical niches first, where the big agents are less involved and the number of publishers one needs to get on board is something less than “just about all of them.”

A quick thanks to everybody who attended Digital Book World (and there were a lot of you.) I am hoping that the fact that all I’ve heard is praise and enthusiasm for the two day event is not just a result of people being kind to the guy who put the program together. I think we really did generate discussion on some issues that had previously been neglected. But most of all I’m proud of the job we did selecting panelists; everyone I saw presenting was smart, well-prepared and entertaining. Some we had seen in front of audiences before; some we only knew through our interviews in person or on the phone. But picking them carefully and one by one certainly seemed to work and it is the same formula we’ll use putting together Digital Book World 2011. I hope we’ll see everybody again there next year.

Bookmark It:

The rapid series of developments in the digital book space and my rising profile mean that I seem to be in an interview with a journalist just about every day. As I was yesterday. The focus of yesterday’s conversation was the Baker & Taylor“Blio” platform that I wrote about last week. How widespread did I think its uptake would be?

The interviewer and I covered a lot of ground, including ebook pricing and timing and whether publishers would be able to make enhanced ebooks work. Those are the topics of the moment (and they are all panel topics at Digital Book World.)

At one point we had a robust discussion about ebook pricing. My interviewer asked me about a pundit’s observation that hardcover books were just wildly overpriced. The implication is that publishers should consider themselves damn lucky that people would pay $9.99 for an ebook, which, after all, has far fewer bytes than a movie they can get for $1.99.

That’s an easy one to answer. What’s a “right” price? Well, from the publisher’s perspective, that’s a question with a clear mathematical answer. (The math wouldn’t yield the same answer for an author.) The right price is the one at which the total gross margin — revenues after all costs — is maximized. We all know more will buy if it is cheaper and fewer will buy if it is more expensive, but the “right” price is the one where customers times margin (margin being revenue minus costs) is the highest it can be.

There is no way in the world that a publisher would maximize margin cutting $28 print book prices to $9.99. So the author of this blogpost being quoted to me might be looking at the “right price” from a consumer perspective or a high-level industry observer perspective, but they sure aren’t looking at it from the perspective of the one who sets the price: the publisher.

At the conclusion of the interview, the journalist on the other end of the phone asked me whether, in effect, publishers would be able to save themselves. “Is there a model,” she said, “which assures that a publisher will profit selling their books in the future?”

Now, I must say before you read my answer, this expresses a long view, not an immediate one. But it sure isn’t comforting to people who sell content for a living.

Is there a model for success selling content? I think the answer to that question is “no.” I’ve spent my lifetime in book publishing and so did my Dad; I don’t like coming to this conclusion. But what I think I see is that selling content as a publisher is a business that is going to just get harder and harder until it won’t really be much of a business anymore.

This has nothing to do with piracy or DRM or Amazon’s promotional ebook pricing. It has to do with the most basic of economic laws: supply and demand.

Until the digital age, content was scarce. It wasn’t scarce because people didn’t create it; it was scarce because it required an investment to distribute it. That’s no longer true. Anybody with an Internet connection can make anything they write (or snap or video or sing) available to anybody else with an Internet connection. For just about free. That’s just one reason — among many — why the amount of content choices available to everybody has mushroomed in the past 15 years.

When the supply of something goes up faster than demand, the price of the something drops. Or, put another way, money flows to scarcity. And content is anything but scarce. That, in a nutshell, is the inexorable problem publishers face. And every day it gets worse. More backlist and out of print and public domain and orphan books get digitized and made available. More bloggers blog. More commercial operations put content online to satisfy their own stakeholders. More videos are uploaded to YouTube and more documents are uploaded to Scribd. All of it is processed and made discoverable by Google and other search engines. And the cumulative effect of all this content being created as something other than new publications for sale is cutting into the market for content that is being created with the expectation of sale.

What is the new scarce item that will attract the dollars if IP is so common that it becomes hard to sell? The answer is the attention of people: eyeballs. And the winning trick for publishers will be to use the content they control — which today does have value — as “bait” to attract the attention of people and then to keep that attention and build a business around it.

Note to some publishers who think they’re doing this: it is not the right answer to simply grab email names and web site registrations as a way to offer the same product catalog over and over again by email blasts. That doesn’t create value for a community and, before long, the community will lose interest and move on. You will lower your marketing costs temporarily with that strategy, but you’re still building a business of selling content and you’ll still, ultimately, deal with the problem that something roughly equivalent to much of what you want to sell will be available elsewhere for free.

I’m far enough ahead of the wave with this insight (if, indeed, time proves it to be an insight) that I can’t really point you to any examples yet from established publishers who followed Shatzkin’s formula to success (although I’m working on a couple that might be worthy of mention by a year from now.) So far, all that is clear is that publishers that stick to an audience fare better in the digital world than the ones who don’t. Their marketing costs are lower and their reach to the audience is both more effective and less dependent on intermediaries.

A stark illustration of this hit my radar screen last month.  A major agent told me that he sold a Mind, Body, Spirit author’s book to Random House, which sold 12,000 copies.  He sold the next book by the same author to niche publisher Hay House, which sold 200,000 copies! And Hay House, with over a million email addresses of people all interested in the same type of book, probably spent less on marketing to sell eight times as many.

There is one example that points the way for all of us in this business right under our noses every day. It is Publishers Marketplace, the creation of Michael Cader. He didn’t have book content to use as bait for the publishing community, so he created a free daily newsletter, Publishers Lunch about ten years ago. The formula he used — which was novel then and is now a commonplace — was to find the stories of interest to his community every morning and deliver the links to those stories, along with a little commentary, for free. That created an enormous number of sign-ups very quickly and a corresponding amount of grumbling from the established trade press, which would have a) never wanted to show anybody else’s story rather than their own and b) would have expected to sell any content they generated rather than giving it away as Cader did. After all, selling content was the model! (Sound familiar?)

I don’t think it took a year before Cader established his community, Publishers Marketplace, built from the eyeballs that were attracted by the free content in Lunch. Soon he made the “free Lunch” an abridged version, so the “full Lunch” became one of many benefits of “membership” in the community, which comes at a monthly subscription price for the unaffiliated and at site license prices for big companies. It is important to note that the full Lunch content alone wouldn’t keep and hold a community. Rather it is databases of information, many of them created by the contributions of the audience and additional tools and services (such as a free web page for every member) that keep people signing up and paying each month without dropping out.

Publishers have always focused primarily on the content. Survival in the future will require focusing on the market.

Publishers Marketplace and Hay House (and Harlequin and F+W and Interweave and Chelsea Green and all publishers who are dedicated to serving the same community over and over again) are on the right path, one that is very difficult for general publishers to tread. Taking steps to preserve the current marketplace for content — tinkering with DRM and fighting piracy; grappling with the timing and pricing of the content in various formats; even building out from the book as we’ve known it to take advantage of new ways to deliver information and entertainment — are, at best, holding actions. They don’t attack the fundamental problem that is developing for publishers which is this: if you don’t own the audience, the cost of reaching it for one book at a time will be prohibitive.

In the digital age it will make much more economic sense for the owner of the audience to find the content rather than the way we’ve always done it, which is the other way around.

Bookmark It:

As part of the program-creation process for Digital Book World, I had a round of conversations with the top executives of the Big Six companies to discuss the agenda, mostly with the CEOs. The purpose of the check-ins was to find out what topics the CEOs wanted their companies to speak about and, of course, which they wanted to avoid for reasons of diplomacy, commercial politics, or legality.

One topic I had left out of our program initially was “piracy”. Some of the executives I met with found this a very troubling omission. My first reaction was “what’s there to discuss? We’re all against piracy and there isn’t much we can do about it. So what else do we say?” Although there are two of the big houses where that view is, to some extent, shared, most of the others disagree, some vehemently. In fact, Macmillan has a “seven point program” to confront and combat piracy, which will now be the topic of a presentation by Macmillan president Brian Napack on the first morning of Digital Book World.

The topic of piracy is a part of the conversation about “digital rights management”, software that manages how a file can be used. DRM is a pretty standard aspect of software and DVD distribution but it comes in for a lot of complaint and criticism from very knowledgeable observers and participants in the ebook scene.

There is a “first sale” doctrine in copyright law that gives the purchaser of a book (or sound recording or DVD) the right to give away or re-sell that good. It does not give the right to sell or give away a copy, but it does allow you to “share” your book or CD or DVD with your mother, your sister, and your aunt and then to sell the used copy on eBay. Those rights have never really extended to software, which often knows if you’re trying to load it onto a second computer and won’t let you. Attempts to control sharing of music through DRM are commonly blamed for the piracy that became rampant in that sphere (although I don’t buy that; there are other explanations I find more compelling.)

The question of DRM-or-not in the ebook world is a very complicated one, although opponents of DRM often paint it as very simple. O’Reilly Media sells its ebooks “DRM-free”, as do some upstart ebook first publishers. The ebook self-publishing site, Smashwords, also sells only DRM free from their own site, although Smashwords-originated files might have DRM added by intermediary resellers, with which it is making more and more deals.

The opponents of DRM point to the incontrovertible fact that its existence does not stamp out piracy, which is transparent at a time when you can type just about any book title into Google with the word “file” after it and be directed to sites that offer you a free pirated download. In fact, even not publishing the book digitally is insufficent DRM to keep it from pirate distribution.

Mark Coker of Smashwords, despite the fact that he sells onlyDRM-free ebooks from his site, is an avowed opponent of piracy, and even of sharing. He suggests a boilerplate notice in his ebooks that tell you that you should go buy another copy of this book you’re about to read if you didn’t buy this one, or else you’re cheating the author. Mark believes the key to combating piracy is education; he admits to an unusually strong faith in consumer integrity.

But despite the lengthy introduction, this post is not about DRM; it’s to propose what is the ultimate defense against piracy: ebooks that aren’t static; ebooks that change.

The secret sauce behind O’Reilly’s DRM-free policy is that when you buy an ebook from them, you are entitled to the updates to that ebook…forever. The implicit message there is there will be updates.

There is no better antidote to piracy than this. If the pirated or peer-to-peer edition of a book is yesterday’s, or last week’s, and the book is changing, then it’s yesterday’s paper (which the Rolling Stones noted long ago, “nobody in the world” wants.)

This is beyond wrenching to publishers; it completely changes the workflow and it completely changes the business model. The rhythm of a publishing house is based on the fact that books are, at some point, finished. There is a Henry Ford assembly line aspect to how things have always worked. Whether you’re an editor, a marketer, or a sales person, new books have a pretty reliable “cycle” for you: their existence in your life has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The conveyor belt moves the book away from you so you can’t spend too much time on it and can move on to the next one. Having authors not stop adding to or changing a book, even after it’s published, is totally disruptive. And what would we do about the ISBN numbers?

Yet, the possibility for ebooks to be totally up-to-date is one publishers can’t ignore. The Little, Brown division at Hachette has just announced that on December 1 it is publishing a 2,000 word update on the H1N1 (swine flu) virus in the ebook edition of “The Vaccine Book”, which was originally published in 2007. If something startling happened that should change that text on February 1, wouldn’t it make sense for them to update the book again? In October, Wiley published, as an ebook only, “The Swine Flu: The New Pandemic” because they wanted to get the most up-to-date information out quickly. By that logic, wouldn’t they also want to update their ebook if what was up-to-date in October isn’t in March?

And if they did that, what possible value would a pirated edition of yesterday’s ebook have?

Of course, swine flu is a dynamic subject. It isn’t a novel; it isn’t history. It isn’t even programming or software development or technology, the subjects O’Reilly publishes (and often updates.) But every editor knows plenty of authors of non-fiction books that wanted to keep writing and changing and adding past every deadline the house presented. Let the new process start with those; there will be plenty of candidates.

Furthermore, the biggest threat from pirated ebooks is to the most established franchise authors. I believe Tim O’Reilly is responsible for two cogent and pithy observations about piracy: that obscurity is a greater threat to most authors than piracy, and that piracy is “progressive taxation.” Both express the reality that the marketing for most books fails to reach most of the book’s potential audience. That Henry Ford assembly line conveys the book away from the marketers before the task of informing the entire potentially-interested public is anywhere near complete. So piracy, or file-sharing that may fall short of actual piracy, can serve the purpose of spreading the word about a book and triggering more sales. Except there are some authors, and those are the ones that sell the most books for the biggest publishers, who don’t need marketing to inform their audience; their audience, in effect, informs their audience! And those are the ones who would surely lose sales if there were no DRM and books could be freely shared or are made available through illicit channels.

But those authors are also the ones who have the biggest personal followings. They are the most capable of adding material: notes about what they’re working on, correspondence with fans or critics, even observations about other people’s books, that would add some value for many of the readers of their stories. In fact, a regular “update to my readers” from a top-flight author that is available only in their ebooks, or to purchasers of their ebooks, would be an attraction to many and could serve as a constant reminder that downloading their books from illegitimate sources is cheating them.

I’m not against DRM in principle and I’m all for combating piracy any way we can (and I have a couple of thoughts on that subject I’ll save for a subsequent post.) But I am far from certain that piracy represents the same existential threat to book publishers that it did to record companies, although we have others: the music business isn’t nearly so threatened by the shift to vertical.

One of my favorite people in the digital book business, who once worked in the music business said to me: “I don’t worry about piracy. I did in the music business because music was bought by kids. My customers are 53-year old ladies. They don’t go to pirate sites. They’d be afraid of getting a virus!” She’s right about that, at least for today. But for those who are concerned about piracy, I am not sure this problem can be attacked with toughness and muscle as effectively as it would be with creativity and delivering to the market something the pirates just can’t keep up with.

We have observed previously that the day will likely come when Big Authors will go straight to electronic distribution for some ebooks, bypassing the publishers to collect bigger royalties. What could be the first shot of that battle, and a reflection of the ideas in this post as well, may have been fired in the UK where Sony has announced a special edition James Patterson ebook which will contain the new book, “Cross Country”, a month before its general release plus other excerpts and a special letter from James Patterson. Of course, that deal was probably made by the publisher with Patterson’s cooperation, but it points to possibilities that should make publishers nervous.

Bookmark It:

I had a lunch conversation this week with three successful literary agents, who will remain anonymous for this post. They wanted to talk about the panel we’re having at Digital Book World called “The Changing Author-Agent Relationship: How Will It Affect the Business Model?”

That panel was born when I engaged an agent last summer with my observations about digital change and tried to recruit her to join a panel discussion about it. “Suppose you work with an author to develop her manuscript so your creative input becomes part of the work. Then you can’t sell it, or you get only a token offer for it, and the author wants to self-publish. Shouldn’t you, or any agent in that spot, be entitled to something in that case?”

The agent, sensing quickly that I was going to a model of “author pays agent for consulting help” said, “I can’t participate in a conversation like that. We have a canon of ethics in the AAR, and that might well run afoul of it.”

As it turns out, the canon of ethics of the AAR only explicitly prohibits agents from charging “reading fees” to prospective clients. Other charges are explictly permitted, such as for xeroxing and messengers. And others, such as consulting on self-publishing options, aren’t mentioned.

But, still, the question of whether the business model needs to change remains. The kind of book advances that agents have made a living on for years are diminishing in number. And now that self-publishing is legitimately part of the commercial continuum, authors have a right to expect that their career business manager, which an agent is, will employ it, or suggest that they do, when it makes sense. And agents will have a right to expect to be paid for that.

Of course, that’s not what these three successful working agents do. Their business assets are their personal knowledge of and relationships with acquiring editors; their ability to shape a writer’s concept and proposal into a commercial book; their knowledge of the ins and outs of book contracts and publishers’ accounting procedures. Exploring and keeping up with the various print and electronic self-publishing options: starting with Author Solutions and Smashwords, but including many others including our client Bookmasters, lulu.com, and many others, is a fulltime job in itself. (There’s a string started on Brantley’s list today by Joe Esposito who noticed announcements for four new self-publishing startups in his email in the past few days.) And searching out the authors with the money to self-publish, let alone to pay for advice on how to do it effectively, is also not what the successful agent in the current marketplace does.

I had spoken at a Writer’s Digest conference two months ago and told aspiring writers “get an agent” but also, “make sure the agent knows about the self-publishing options.” These very professional and desirable agents did not. But they agreed that when ten or thirty or fifty times a year a project they’d developed goes off for self-publishing, they’ll want to have a way to monetize that. We agreed that the likely solution will be an alliance with somebody who perhaps positioned themselves more as a “consultant” to aspiring authors. There is no shortage of such people.

The conversation turned to contract terms, particularly regarding ebooks. The agents asked me: “don’t the big trade publishers see that the strategy of paying authors half or less of what many ebook publishers will pay on digital book royalties isn’t sustainable? that we’ll end up splitting those deals?” I told them that I had raised this point with Big Six CEOs and they all said, “we won’t buy print-only; never happen.” The big publishers are counting on the authors’ (and agents’) desire for the advance to keep them locked into the current model. (Richard Curtis made this same point in a recent eReads post.) It is clear that the idea of splitting off ebooks from print contracts is one that these agents have been thinking about for a while. The relative attraction of the advance goes down as the level of ebook sales on which you’re taking half or less of what you could get goes up.

We also spent a little time discussing “verticals” and my theory that power is moving from “control of IP to control of eyeballs.” In the past week, I’ve had two conversations with Hay House executives (they’re on the Digital Book World program too) about their business. To somebody with a trade orientation, it’s pretty phenomenal. They run between 30 and 100 live events a year for their community. They have over 1 million email addresses that drive the sales of all their books. One of the agents said he had an author for whom he sold a book to one of the Big Six houses and they sold twelve thousand copies. He sold the next title to Hay House and they sold two hundred thousand. How long will the Big Six houses be able to compete for big-potential books in Hay House’s sweet spot (mind-body-spirit), advances or no advances?

One of the agents at lunch does a lot with juveniles. “Do I have to worry about this ebook thing much?” that agent asked. Soon you will, I said. After lunch I was working with my frequent collaborator Ted Hill on a proposal we’re making for another conference on digital tipping points. One we were talking about is “when does the publishing house have editors shift their focus from developing a print book with an author, with the ebook as afterthought, to developing the best possible digital product, with the print book coming out of it?” That gave me an answer for that agent: you better have somebody on your team now who can see the digital book possibilities in every idea before you peddle it. Now that you’ve made me think about it, I realize that if you’re not fully exploring the creative possibilities for digital products for every kids book you develop, you’re already missing the boat.

Bookmark It:

I have been imagining “verticals” for more than ten years. My BEA speech earlier this year postulated that publishing power would shift from controlling “IP” to controlling “eyeballs.”

Lots of publishers have complimented me on my insights and have told me “we’re thinking along the same lines.” But what I see are mostly product catalogs organized vertically. Or some other variation of “we provide the content, you provide the audience.” That’s a start, but it isn’t a vertical that will lead to control of eyeballs.

Now, everybody’s got a model to follow. Dominique Raccah, the empresario of Sourcebooks, unveiled PoetrySpeaks.com today. THIS is the beginning of a real vertical portal!

Sourcebooks has already made the major breakthrough of creating poetry bestsellers (are they the first since Rod McKuen 30 or 40 years ago?) They did it by adding CDs with sound to the printed word and they did it with a printed book, not an online combination. So they already have demonstrated a commercial sense for the poetry market that is unique.

But PoetrySpeaks gets past the product and goes to the heart of community: they provide service. They give every poet a reason to come to them and use them. They provide tools to post poetry, critique poetry, share poetry, speak poetry, and sell poetry. They thought through the business models so that other poetry publishers can play and make money, and you can bet that, later if not sooner or immediately, they all will.

They’ve thought it through from the perspective of many stakeholders: poets, of course; but also poetry publishers, poetry professors, poetry fans, poetry devotees. Another way of saying “vortal” is “all things…” and PoetrySpeaks is on its way to being “all things Poetry.”

The revenue models, to start, all are based on selling poetry content and tickets to slams, readings, and online performances. That’s fine. But I’ll bet that within two years there’s another one: selling memberships to a premium level of access to other poets, teachers, critics, and workshops (a la the model of PublishersMarketplace.) And I’ll bet there will be databases of people and poetry and tools and ideas that will have been crowd-sourced, have extraordinary value, and effectively head off anybody else from competing for what it will have become. (As Publishers Marketplace has done.)

PoetrySpeaks is a vertical site that doesn’t lean on trying to sell you something; it presents itself as a service to the community. Hats off to a publisher that is still selling books by the boatload, even poetry books, but that also recognizes that future success requires an entirely different model.

Yes, there are thing missing. I didn’t see a blogroll (although there is a blog) and the site doesn’t appear to acknowledge whatever other poetry activity now exists on the web. I’m sure eventually it will. There’s room for a history of poetry, and a bunch of poetry bookshelves. They need more content about poetry. If there’s an FAQ there that explains iambic pentameter, I missed it. But their community will create these things over time. PoetrySpeaks has the bait that will make it “the online place the poets hang out.” All else will follow.

One observation by Michael Cader in his write-up on this that I want to echo and stress. He observes that you do not have to be a market leader in a vertical to take a leadership position. Undoubtedly, there are many publishers who, despite Sourcebooks’s poetry bestsellers consider themselves to be much more committed to poetry publishing than Sourcebooks has been. But anybody committed to poetry publishing will be saying one thing to Sourcebooks: thank you very much.

Dominique showed PoetrySpeaks to me and to Guy Gonzalez of F+W at the Frankfurt Book Fair under a strict NDA. We were sworn to secrecy and revealed nothing, but persuaded our colleagues to carve out a feature spot for Dominique to deliver our audience an update on this project as part of our first morning session on January 26. One more reason to sign up for Digital Book World.

Bookmark It:

The story in today’s New York Times about the new Daily Beast publishing imprint created by Perseus obviously didn’t hit everybody else the way it hit me. I think it is really important news. It is also a smart approach. And I think it is a harbinger of many things to come.

The two things that struck Michael Cader about this initiative were not the things that struck me. What he said in Lunch:

The Daily Beast is the latest entrant in the shouldn’t books be written shorter and issued faster sweepstakes, launching Beast Books and focusing on current events. They plan to publish ebook editions first, followed by traditional print editions. The site has partnered with Perseus for sales, distribution and other services, represented in the deal by Larry Kirshbaum and Ed Victor.

Aiming to publish just three to five titles a year, the line begins with John Avlon’s ATTACK OF THE WINGNUTS: How the Lunatic Fringe is Hijacking America, with a foreword by Tina Brown. The ebook will be available in December 2009; the trade paperback in January 2010.

“Written shorter” and “issued faster” are definitely part of the offer here, but I don’t think they’re the most significant news and, as Michael reminded me when I asked, people have been talking about shorter and faster for a long time. I share Michael’s interest in noting that the ebook will come out first and the print book will follow, which only follows the reality of what is available when! But even that isn’t the most noteworthy aspect of this announcement; as The Times’s story makes clear, publishers have issued ebooks ahead of print before.

What struck me about this initiative is that it shows the publishing power moving from the book publishers whose model is to own content to the website entrepreneurs whose model is to own eyeballs. It shows that online brands with regular around-the-clock followings can do books more efficiently and effectively than publishers with a big apparatus.

The reason that publishers have not shortened publishing schedules in general (they all know that it would be better to accelerate the recovery of the cash invested in author advances and title origination) is because of the marketing requirements that have become standard and part of the landscape. Publishers Weekly, perhaps still the single most powerful pre-publication review (but declining), wants to see galleys for a book four months before publication. Some major accounts want books presented to them as far as six months before publication. If you ask most experienced publishing marketers, I believe they would still tell you that anything less than six months’ lead time to market a book means marketing will both cost more and be less effective.

But The Daily Beast has announced that they will routinely go from a concept to an ebook in the marketplace in six months or less.

This kind of publishing is not primarily made possible by short books, or even ebooks, as much as it is because The Daily Beast has a big online audience and, in addition, serious chops at the practice of getting a story they publish going round and round on the Web. They can get the core audience aware of and talking about a book with their own proprietary engine, so if PW wants to skip reviewing the book they don’t care. And the retailers will know that there’s going to be demand for a book they’re hearing about less than six months in advance, so they’ll break their own rules and stock it on shorter notice.

Now, that is power. How much power? The Times reports (suggesting, but not explicitly saying, that this comes from Brown) that Daily Beast has 3 million unique users a month!

The financial model aspects of this are interesting. The report says that Perseus is financing the publication, signing the author and paying Daily Beast for editing and design. Then Perseus splits profits robustly enough so that their CEO, David Steinberger, can say that authors will get “meaningfully more” than traditional book contracts pay. Obviously, Perseus believes that the marketing that Daily Beast can provide is worth giving away margin for, and that surely seems sensible to me.

The takeaway from this for the industry is that owners of eyeballs are moving into the driver’s seat. The world isn’t completely upside down yet; the owner of the copyright is still paying the owner of the eyeballs for the content and, ostensibly, dictating the terms of the deal. But as more and more web brands develop this kind of audience, publishers are going to get some hard lessons about where the power really will lie as the shift continues to take hold. Remember that what Perseus is bringing to deal is a commodity: lots of other publishers can offer the same suite of capabilities. What the Daily Beast brings is unique. Dollars flow to scarcity.

The one comment worth making on the substance of this is a relatively minor one. Why not enable a print-0n-demand edition to be offered simultaneously with the ebook, at a higher price, of course, which is pulled off the market when the print book’s pressrun arrives? There’s no reason to make somebody wait to read timely information just because they haven’t switched over to ebooks yet. A bit complicated and messy for the retailers; probably have to go to a separate ISBN that isn’t returnable. I’ll bet they’ll get there; this whole idea reflects people who are making total sense and thinking about their community!

Bookmark It:

In the Internet world, brands will be more important than they’ve ever been before.

Why?

Because as the number of choices available to anybody seeking anything proliferate, brand is the shortcut that allows choices to be made quickly and reliably. And the Internet does nothing better than presenting us with more choices for any quest than anybody can possibly consider carefully.

In the next 20 years or so, the brands that will dominate for a very long time will be created.

Why?

Because the organization and delivery of stuff — including information — is being realigned into verticals; that is: subjects. The requirements of physical delivery required aggregation across interests that the Internet does not. So enduring horizontal brands of content like newspapers or book publishers but also outside content, among retailers, for example, that thrived across interest groups will find themselves challenged by new brands that are narrower and deeper. Being narrower and deeper permits a much more involved engagement with the audience. It strengthens the brand.

That’s how entities like Politico and Fivethirtyeight.com for political news suddenly challenged The New York Times and the Washington Post. That’s how Ravelry and Etsy arose out of nothing to become brands with real power in the crafts space, or how The Food Network or Epicurious became dominant in the web conversation about food.

The owners of the brands that matter will control access to the audiences that matter in the future. Content creators’ fates will be in the brands’ hands.

Publishers can compete in this environment, but only if they recognize the realities and try!

I am not an expert on brands (and I don’t even play one on TV.) But I have been paying attention this concept for about 15 years, since Mark Bide introduced me to it during our work together on the Publishing in the 21st Century program in the 1990s. There are a few simple truths that I believe are clear to anybody who spends any real time thinking about this.

1. For a brand to succeed, its message (often called its “promise” among the Brandanista) must be crystal clear and unconfused. You wouldn’t put the same brand name on toothpaste and tomato sauce. And if Ravelry wants to expand into gardening, they almost certainly should invent another brand.

2. Publishers particularly need to distinguish between B2B (business-to-business) and B2C (business-to-consumer) brands. So a company’s name might be an acceptable B2B brand, communicating things about commerciality, quality, and its marketing effort to bookstore buyers, librarians, and reviewers who will be interested in its offerings across subject matters. But consumers require brands that are consistent as to subject matter, or as to the problems the content offerings solve (which is what makes “Dummies” work.)

3. Healthy brands reduce marketing costs. If you want to sell a romance book, you have to find the audience. In Harlequin’s case, the audience finds them! Yes, Harlequin is one of the exceptions to the rule that a publisher’s name is not a B2C brand. Why? Because they have a consistent product offering. If they decided to expand into mysteries or thrillers, they’d need another brand. Even within romances, Harlequin has sub-brands to give their readers shortcuts to the particular lengths and types of books they want to buy.

4. Precisely the same product with precisely the same marketing expenditure will sell better under some brands than it will under others, which is a corrolary to point 3 above.

5. We all well know that not all brand promises are about content. “Community” (interaction among the interested) and “service” (solving problems or providing help, which is what the content in Dummies books do) are important components of brand as well. My paradigm is to use content as bait to attract eyeballs, but then to use community and service to strengthen the hold of the brand on its adherents.

The overall vision presented in the Shift speech is that vertical communities are forming and that the stakes being planted in the virtual ground are analogous to the land claims made by settlers when Oklahoma was opened up. Each of those claims will ultimately be branded and many of those brands will endure for a very long time. Will important gardening brands be owned by publishers or seed and fertilizer companies? Will important cooking brands be owned by publishers or a food manufacturer or a restaurant chain? Will important travel brands be owned by publishers or a hotel or an airline? It depends on who delivers the combination of content, community, and service that pulls together the interested and then leverages that interest into an enduring brand.

Publishers have great tools to compete but they can only succeed if they know what the game is. Establishing enduring brands is the great opportunity of our time and book publishers are very well-positioned to win. If they play. Understanding content and how to deliver it to markets is a great start, but that’s all it is.

Bookmark It:

Every time I read a story about why newspapers are failing that doesn’t mention the role of aggregation and curation in their troubles, it reminds me that something very fundamental is being missed, even by very sophisticated observers.

Aggregation is one of the core concepts of content presentation and commercialization. Any analysis of what happened to the record business, what is happening to newspapers, or the future of books and bookstores and magazines and TV that does not feature this concept prominently is almost certainly flawed.

Aggregation, of course, simply means pulling together things which are not necessarily connected.

Curation is a term that has always referred to the careful selection and pruning of aggregates, such as for a museum or an art exhibition. But the concept in the digital content world means the selection and presentation of these disparate items to help a browser or consumer navigate and select from them. Aggregation without curation is, normally, not very helpful. Curation creates the brand.

No content makes its way from its creator to the public without aggregation. Agents are aggregators, pulling together the work of many writers to present an (agent-) branded offering to publishers. The business would be considerably more inefficient and expensive if agents didn’t aggregate the work of writers to present to publishers.

Publishers are aggregators, pulling together lists of books to present a (publisher-) branded offering to bookstores, libraries, and various review media. Bookstore buyers would find it much more difficult to purchase tens of thousands of new books each year without this branding.

Bookstores are aggregators, and their curation is reflected in front tables and shop windows and store sections that create a (retailer-) branded offering that consumers can navigate.

In the music world, record companies aggregated 10 or 12 or 15 songs by a single artist into a single offering (called an “album”, nomenclature that goes back to when it took a collection of 78 rpm records to deliver a concerto or a symphony, and those were delivered inside the sleeves of a bound volume.) When long-playing technology (33 rpm records) was perfected, the longer form became more cost-efficient than the single, on a pennies-per-minute-of-sound calculation, so the longer form took over.

Or it took over until it wasn’t more cost-efficient anymore, which it wasn’t when the Internet happened. Aggregation and curation into 40- and 50-minute offerings no longer served the purpose that it used to. And since the unit of appreciation always had been the individual song, the aggregated album lost its sales appeal. It wasn’t just piracy that downloading enabled; it was the ability of the listener to curate for herself!

Newspapers are obviously aggregators and curators. The differences in their curation create their brand. The New York Times leaves out the comics. The New York Post leaves out the multi-syllable words. The Daily News beefs up its sports section and, for years, was known for having the best pictures. But one thing has been common to all of them and to all other newspapers: they cover the waterfront. (I have called that being “horizontal.”) They aggregate news of the world, the nation, and the city with sports, weather, stock quotes, advice to the lovelorn, and many other things. They sell almost all their advertising against the aggregate and against the brand, not against any specific item or interest being aggregated. And the competition for each paper is against other curated aggregates.

Newspapers can sell the curated aggregate to people who don’t want most of it because the total price is a good deal for the parts they want, just like the album was a good deal even if you only liked some of the songs. Or they could.

But now they are suffering precisely the same fate as the record album. The unit of appreciation is smaller than the whole. And for each unit of appreciation — each ball score, stock price, report from Washington, or political cartoon — there is a whole host of new competition.

So the long story short on newspapers is this: a business model of selling a horizontal (many-subject) aggregate, curated by something other than subject, was based on the economics of a physical world where aggregation produced efficiencies of production and distribution. The Internet changed that. It is no longer necessary for an aggregator to provide news to deliver me sports, or to provide a whole newspaper to deliver me the weather or a stock quote.

Horizontal aggregation was more efficient in a world of physical delivery. Vertical aggregation makes more sense in a world of digital delivery. And enabling the customer or user to have some control over the curation is possible in the digital world but hardly is in the physical.

What are the takeaways from this?

1. Don’t blame newspapers for not being ready for the new world. Their strategy of aggregation and curation was created for a physical world and it does not port to a digital one. This is not about whether the content is free or behind a pay wall. It is about the Internet rewriting the rules for what constitutes sensible aggregation and curation.

2. Booksellers must also take the new realities on board. Until the Internet, aggregating the largest possible selection under one roof had enormous customer value because the difficulty of obtaining what was not under that roof was high. It isn’t anymore. Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and any retailer served by Ingram has a nearly-universal selection available for delivery within days, if not hours. So the gap between what’s in the store and what’s not has narrowed dramatically. The relative power of the large aggregate has been diminished.

3. The importance of curation becomes more prominent. If having lots and lots of books in a store doesn’t have the power it used to, having the right books becomes more important.

4. Publishers’ aggregation and curation created their brand, and their brand (in most cases) was intended to communicate meaning to retailers, librarians, and reviewers, not to the public! In a world where the powerful intermediaries are becoming more responsive to subject than to format, publishers need to rethink what they publish and how they present the collection that they choose.

5. Recommendation engines aside (”based on what you bought before, have we got a book for you!”), online book retailers have a long way to go to enable the customized curation that seems both possible and desireable in the digital age. Even as sophisticated a retailer at Barnes & Noble will present multiple duplicate entries of a public domain scan from Google to an ebook search for a Shakespeare play. And even as sophisticated a retailer as Amazon will sell you a Kindle ebook that is a self-published tome in a way that is indistinguishable from a book from a legitimate publisher. These are failures of curation.

Except for the writers, all of us in the book value chain are part of the effort to aggregate and curate the offerings of writers to others. Every editor and publisher, every bookstore and agent, got to where they are by aggregating and curating writers’ work in ways that made commercial sense in a physical world. Some of those assemblies are challenged; I’ve been saying that the more horizontal is the collection, the less likely it is to work in the digital world.

But, remember this: when you are looking for reasons to explain why a winner in print media is losing on the web, it almost certainly starts with aggregation and curation and how it needs to change to be optimal in the new digital environment.

Bookmark It: