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Upton Sinclair famously said that “it is difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends upon his not understanding it.”

I keep putting facts about publishing’s commercial realities that I think most of the smart people running things accept together with forecasts for the future that I think most of the smart people running things accept and coming up with a view of where we’ll be sometime pretty soon that I find very few people will accept.

We have definitely passed what Michael Cader has dubbed “peak bookstores” in the US. Shelf space for books is probably dropping faster than the number of stores as book retailers look for other items to keep their customers more satisfied and give those items space previously devoted to books. And shelf space available for publishers who don’t own bookstores is dropping faster than that because Barnes & Noble, the leading provider of bookshelf display space, is aggressively sourcing their own product both to improve their margins and to develop proprietary product not available to their competitors.

The fate of bookstores is an existential question for today’s book publishers (not to mention today’s booksellers!) Although it isn’t often stated this starkly, the core value proposition for the biggest trade book publishers is that they can put books on shelves. All of the rest of what they do (and often do quite well) — selection, editing, development, packaging, and marketing — is fungible. And usually not scaleable.

A big publisher and an agent would add to this list the “banking” function: putting up the money in advance for the author to write the book. But I’d argue that is also fungible (there’s lots of money out there looking for investment opportunities) so the publisher’s opportunity to be that banker is also dependent on the publisher’s ability to put books on retail shelves.

So, whether they know it or not (and, at the highest levels of the biggest publishing houses, they certainly do know it) the competitive advantage of the trade publisher is inextricably dependent on the survival of brick-and-mortar shelf space for books, which is distinct from total sales of books or even total sales of print books. You don’t need an organization of the scale and capabilities of a major publisher to reach customers through online channels. And, in fact, because the biggest trade publishers are horizontal in their subject matter, their size is more of a handicap than an advantage in competing for markets online.

We consume a lot of industry bandwidth considering whether the Nook and Kindle will survive the iPad and other tablets. I’d argue that it doesn’t really matter much to us. What’s important is that more and more people are reading on screens, that those who do reduce their purchases of books on paper (a fact recently documented in the BISG-Bowker study of ebook consumption), and that the digital book business is transacted online with very little potential role for a brick-and-mortar player (notwithstanding a wonderful 4-year old French fantasy video and a burst of naive optimism from an ABA executive at a BEA roundtable.)

(Digression graf: a much more realistic view of what ebooks and online shopping mean for independent bookstores today is a pessimistic one from the blog of one of the country’s leading independents, Northshire Bookstore in Manchester Center, Vermont. We know Google harbors the hope that they can provide meaningful inclusion for independents in the ebook marketplace. But even if Google’s efforts are successful, they don’t support the independent store, they support the store owner. There is a difference.)

So the race between single-function e-ink and more full-function tablets accelerates the movement from print to digital book consumption; and the move from print to digital book consumption accelerates the shift from store-based purchasing to online purchasing; and the shift to online book purchasing, whether print or digital, accelerates the reduction of brick-and-mortar shelf space.

And the reduction of brick-and-mortar shelf space increasingly challenges the core proposition of all of today’s largest book publishers.

A panel of publishing CEOs in June suggested a consensus view that 40 to 50 percent of book sales five years from now will be ebooks. Last week, another leading publishing executive, Gina Centrello of Random House, made the same prediction. I think, if anything, these predictions are conservative, but if we accept them as made, the implications are profound.

Half of sales being digital means that half is transacted online. That begs the next question, which is how much of the other half is online and how much is brick-and-mortar? The answer to that depends on two variables: the purchasing preferences of consumers and the ability of retailers to keep stores open in the face of declining sales. The two variables are connected: the further away from you is the closest decent store, the more likely you are to increase your purchasing online. And the more you purchase online, the more likely the store nearest to you is to close.

It is a conservative guess that 20% of print book sales today are made online and that ebooks are about 5-to-8% of total sales. That means that consensus estimates are that the ebook share will grow from 5-to-10 times over the next five years. That’s not unreasonable since ebook sales have more than doubled annually in recent years and 10 times would be somewhere between 2-1/2 and just over 3 doublings in five years. (Centrello said they went from 3% to 10% in the past year and, without knowing precisely what dates are meant by “the past year”, we can certainly expect more of an iPad effect in whatever is the “next” year.”)

That kind of ebook sales growth suggests an increasingly digitally-ept and digitally-comfortable reading public. That makes them more likely to buy print online too. So what’s a conservative estimate of the online share of print in five years. It can’t go up 5-to-10 times and leave any sales at brick-and-mortar at all. So let’s say (I’d say very conservatively), that print sales in 2015 are half online and that enough shelf space has survived to deliver half of print sales through brick-and-mortar. (I have to say as I write this that I have trouble believing it, but most people would have even more trouble believing me if I went with my gut on this!)

That math leaves print sales through stores at 25% of the total book sales. Today, if the stores’ share is 80% of print and we assume print is 90% of total book sales (using Centrello’s 10% number as a baseline in an attempt to be more conservative for this particular calculation), then we’re talking about a brick-and-mortar decline from 72% of the market today to 25% in 5 years! That’s a loss of about two-thirds from today’s sales levels! And that’s across all stores: chain bookstores, independent bookstores, and mass merchants.

I am not hearing anything in the statements of publishing or bookstore executives to suggest that anybody’s preparing for change that drastic. And I don’t see anything in the trend lines that suggest that we can avoid it.

Tell the truth. If I had headlined this piece, “Industry executives predictions mean sales of books through brick-and-mortar will decline by 65% over the next five years”, wouldn’t you have started out reading it assuming I was nuts?

I did a post three months ago called Why Are You For Killing Bookstores? which was on a similar topic, focusing on the see-saw relationship between ebook growth and bookstore survival. (When one goes up, the other goes down.) It was one of the most commented-upon posts in 17 months I’ve been writing the blog. I think that was a result of what could be a corrollary to Sinclair’s maxim which would go something like this: “it is very hard to get somebody to understand something when understanding it would highlight the conflict between two propositions that appeal to them.”

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One of the recurring characteristics of “change” is that the first iteration of something new looks a lot like what it is replacing. So it has been with ebooks and ebook retailing. The ebooks themselves have, for the most part, been the same as the print books except rendered on a screen instead of on paper. And when we say “the same”, we mean right down to duplicating meaningless blank pages and the legend often found in print books that tells you how many printings the book has had. (This still happens frequently; I’ve just experienced it on The Big Short which I’m now reading in B&N’s reader.)

And ebook retailing has also imitated print book retailing in that the emphasis has been on the assembling the largest possible aggregation of book title choices in one place. This is a paradigm that makes intuitive sense in the physical world; once I’ve driven to my local superstore, I don’t want to find the mysteries are here but the cookbooks are in a store down the block.

It has been a long-established “fact” (although I question if it is still true, as we’ll explain later) that the larger is the selection of books available in a single location, the more powerful is the magnet to attract customers. My father found this out when he was in charge of the Brentano’s chain in the 1960s. Their Short Hills, New Jersey store was the worse-performing store in the chain until they doubled its title selection. And then, like magic, it became the best-performing store in the chain.

Amazon dot com reproved the point when they went into business in the mid-1990s. Although they were not the first online bookstore, they were the first to really attempt to carry everything. In fact, they went beyond carrying everything by providing a database (obtained from Baker & Taylor, in which there is another story) that not only showed just about all the books in print but also books that were no longer in print! Conventional publishing and retailing theory at the time would have said it was a bad move to return suggestions in search results that were books not available for sale. But, of course, it built their competitive advantage. They rapidly became the best place to search because of the completeness of their database and, actually, confirming to a customer that “what you want is a book that was indeed published but is not now readily available” made it easier to sell the customer a substitute. Whereas the the store (online or off) that didn’t have the unavailable book but didn’t also provide that information found it harder to close the alternate sale.

The point about the importance of selection was proven again by Amazon when they launched the Kindle in November, 2007 and lit the fire for what is still a spreading conflagration of ebook reading. Before Kindle, there were perhaps 100,000 ebook titles available as PDFs that could be read on a full-function computer, but not nearly as many in formats that could work on smaller devices (Palm, Mobi, Dotlit). Amazon launched Kindle with about 150,000 titles and used their market power to get big publishers to put more and more of the newest, hottest books into their format closer and closer to publication date.

There were other features of the Kindle (the ability to load books wirelessly and instantly without going through an intermediary device; its easy-to-read e-ink; its built in dictionary; Amazon’s deep relationship with very large numbers of online book buyers; and, of course, eye-catching prices relative to the print edition prices of the hottest new books) that fueled its near instantaneous success, but the robust title selection was a critical element.

So to that point — one could say to this point — the largest possible selection in one place has been as important to the success of an ebook retailer (obviously: online) as it was historically to a print book retailer with a physical store.

Early in the decade, it occurred to me that the magnetic power of the large selection in one physical store had sharply diminished. When Dad doubled the inventory of the Short Hills Brentano’s, he delivered a selection that the consumer couldn’t match for many miles around. When Barnes & Noble and Borders got Wall Street money to replicate the Bookstop model of 100,000+ title superstores in the early 1990s, they were enabling consumers to find conveniently books which had previously been obtainable only with great effort. But the limitless shelf space of online bookselling undercut that advantage and by the early part of this decade, it seemed to me that the consumer was finding the unlimited availability of titles online which could be delivered in a day or two so powerful that the large selection in a store that might be available immediately had really diminished appeal.

But there’s another thread of bookselling history on- and offline that I believe will soon become the dominant paradigm for ebook retailing. And, of course (just so you are reminded what blog you’re reading), it fits into the concept of “verticality”.

Publishers have known for a long time that good deals can be made and large sales can be registered through what we call “specialty retailers”. (The label for these sales in a publishing house, and others such as sales to catalogers or premium sales, is “Special Sales.”) The store that sells the tools and materials to refinish your floors can sell you a book to explain how to do it. The store that sells computers and paper and ink can also effectively sell resume or how-to computer books. The garden supply store can sell books on how to make your roses bloom.

Amazon and other online merchants (and not just of books) have long operated “affiliate” programs by which a web site can earn a commission on sales made at the primary merchant by referring a customer. This generally works by having the affiliate site promote a particular book title; when the site visitor clicks on the link, s/he is delivered to Amazon or BN.com’s page for that title. If the customer buys, the referring site gets a commission. These revenues don’t often amount to big money for the referring sites (although they sometimes do), but it is believed (but as with All Things Amazon, we don’t have the critical data to confirm) that, cumulatively, referrals from perhaps millions of affiliates deliver significant volume and customers to Amazon (and others.)

This is as far as “special sales” have gone in the ebook world. But the guess from here is that this is about to change and that the change we’ll see in the next few years will obliterate the notion that “all subjects in one place” is a significant marketing advantage, online or in a store. Many book sales, and particularly ebook sales, will move to “contextual” resellers. Your accountant’s web site will sell you the book(s) that help you understand a new tax law or how to ready your business for sale. Your favorite sports web site will sell you the new biography of Alex Rodriguez. And your favorite “Literary Review” newsletter and website will take care of your needs to acquire fiction directly and without your having to shop the vaster stacks of an online superstore.

That is: curated ebook offerings (a click away from the ability to buy lots more content beyond the curated selection) will be featured on every web site with any significant traffic. Delivering purchaseable content — books right now, but ulimately magazines, shorter articles, and relevant audio- and video-content as well — will become a standard expectation of any site (or web community) that aspires to a true mutual embrace with its site visitors. “What I’ve read lately and liked, and why” is a legitimate offering to anticipate from every blogger or commentator with a following.

Last week, Barnes & Noble held its regular call to announce financial results and future expectations. In that call, B&N expressed the expectation that the ebook world would ultimately settle down to about five players and that they’d be one of them. With that perspective, they saw for themselves a reasonable proportion — say 20% — of the ebook market.

My first reaction to that was “what are they thinking? There won’t be five online booksellers; there will be five million.” A day or two later I had a conversation with one of my personal tech gurus who saw it the way B&N’s statement suggested they did  (”it will consolidate, just like the music business did…”) He also asked a lot of practical questions. On what devices will these ebooks be read? How will all these individual sites deal with the format issues, the DRM issues, the customer service? In other words, “great vision, Mike, but how can it possibly work?”

I think it will work like affiliate sites worked, but in a more sophisticated way. A strong central operator providing scale facilitates the commercial offering of the niche player. The harbinger of the future is the deal announced last week between F+W Media and Ingram Digital. Ingram is setting up all F+W specialist web sites (and they have them for many different vertical interest groups) with the ability to sell both ebooks and print of all publishers to their site traffic. (Although we have working relationships with both companies, we weren’t involved in that deal and don’t know any of the details.)

I believe that the Ingram-F+W deal is the start of something new and big. Both companies are going to find ways to improve on whatever is the starting point. F+W is going to have to learn how to merchandise what Ingram can give them into a unique shopping and content consumption experience for the consumer. And Ingram is going to have to learn how to deliver what they can offer to F+W in a way that enables F+W  to curate and enhance the selection to deliver something uniquely customized to its own community.

If that view of the future is right, the competition among the players who can provide the ebook selection and transaction services Ingram does — those in the game already like Amazon, B&N, iBooks, and Kobo and those saying they’re about to come in like Google, B&T’s Blio, and Copia — is going to take place in a whole new arena. B&N has announced deals like this, where they “power” somebody else’s bookstore. Kobo hasn’t yet, but I’d expect them to; it just seems to me like an opportunity they’d see. This is a bit odd; it puts “wholesaler” Ingram in competition with retailers to create the next round of niche retailers. Ingram obviously has the built-in capability to offer print and electronic book delivery but, of course, B&N has the internal resources to do that too, and  B&T can do it too. There are anomalies to rationalize about margin, but, in the end, customer acquisition through this strategy will be far cheaper than it is most other ways, even if a fixed margin from the publisher is shared with the niche player.

This business hasn’t really begun to happen yet; we’re just seeing the outlines of it. Initially, the competition appears to be about how each retailer delivers its vast set of content choices to the online consumer in a consolidated way. (And usually it has been the same for Ingram. Most of their business has come from large “sell everything” ebook stores.) But over time it will evolve into a competition for niche resellers. Winning is always about delivering the best consumer experience but the challenge will be to deliver the best consumer experience to somebody else’s consumers. White label is the key to the ebook (and book) retailing future.

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We had a very successful debut annual conference for Digital Book World last January, even though we didn’t conceive the idea until June, put together a group of helpers (which we now call our Conference Council) until July, or draft the initial program until August. This year we’re way ahead of that schedule. We’ve put together a fabulous Council to advise us this year and we’re having a meeting of many of them next week to discuss the agenda and to start getting suggestions for speakers.

The Council gives us wide exposure and connections to the trade publishing industry. That way we make sure we don’t miss any ideas and we don’t miss knowing about any talented people whom our audience would want to hear.

We have several publishing company presidents and CEOs (Sara Domville of F+W, Marcus Leaver of Sterling, Maureen McMahon of Kaplan, Brian Napack of Macmillan, Dominique Raccah of Sourcebooks) and some presidents and CEOs from other companies and support organizations in the industry (Kristen McLean of the Association of Booksellers for Children, Tracey Armstrong of Copyright Clearance Center, Peter Clifton of Filedby, David Cully of Baker & Taylor, Joe Esposito of GiantChair, John Ingram of Ingram Content Companies, Scott Lubeck of The Book Industry Study Group, and Steve Potash of Overdrive Systems.)

We have other senior level executives, many with specific digital responsibilities (Peter Balis of Wiley, Ken Brooks of Cengage, Mark Gompertz of Simon & Schuster, Madeline McIntosh of Random House, Thomas Minkus of the Frankfurt Book Fair, Larry Norton of Borders, Kate Rados of F+W Media, Charlie Redmayne of HarperCollins, Adam Salomone of Harvard Common Press, John Schline of Penguin, Evan Schnittman of Oxford University Press, Michael Tamblyn of Kobo, Maja Thomas of Hachette, and Tom Turvey of Google.)

We have agents (Sloan Harris of ICM, Simon Lipskar of Writer’s House, and Scott Waxman of the Waxman Agency) and industry consultants and commentators (Michael Cairns of Persona Non Data, Ted Hill of THA Consulting, and Lorraine Shanley of Market Partners International.) And because he is our media partner, we have help from Michael Cader of Publishers Marketplace as well. And we also get great input from others on the F+W team: David Nussbaum, David Blansfield, Cory Smith, Guy Gonzalez, and Matt Mullin.

So we have all the Big Six represented, as well as small publishers, industry-wide associations and service providers, wholesalers, digital distribution partners, retailers, and agents. All of these people have real input into the topic list and speakers. Many of them are joining us for a meeting next week to review our ideas for the program, which we previewed on this blog about a month ago.

Because Digital Book World tries to be at the cutting edge of trade publishing and digital change, we often face one or both of two challenges. Sometimes we believe something should be happening, or be about to happen, but we may not know where or whether the publishers leading the charge will talk about it. Several topics come to mind that fit that description: vertical efforts inside general trade houses; what houses are doing to adjust to reduced expectations for print sales in bookstores; how houses are gearing up or changing their sales efforts to compete in and serve a growing list of digital intermediaries; how enhanced ebook and ebook first creation change the traditional order of things in product development.

The other challenge we have to work around is when people can say things privately but not publicly. One topic that is very tough to talk about is ebook royalties, which is a major point of contention between publishers and leading agents at the moment. The big houses are pretty adamantly trying to hold the line (publicly) at a royalty of 25% of net receipts. But upstart publishers like Jane Friedman’s Open Road appear to be willing to pay 50%; publishing through Smashwords yields 85% (but sells the books without DRM, which would frequently scare the copyright owners of valuable properties); and self-publishing through a distributor would deliver a yield somewhere in between. (Remember: self-publishing ebooks carries no inventory risk.) In that environment, some agents are able to wring some concessions from some publishers. But the agent can’t talk about that without jeopardizing her ability to get concessions for her clients and no publisher will volunteer to reveal the isolated concession and start turning that into a policy.

Some things are just hard to discuss. Do booksellers, or even the publishers and wholesalers who supply them, want to talk about the possibility of their impending demise? But how can one plan for the future and ignore that elephant in the room? If a publisher suddenly sees the necessity of developing direct selling relationships with end users, after years of telling booksellers he was against it, does that publisher want to talk about those efforts in public?

When competitors participate in industry education initiatives, they must draw lines around what they will reveal and what they won’t. One ebook-responsible executive we know at a major house is persistently reluctant to reveal what he’s doing or what he’s thinking. But he has a boss, one who is proud of what he does and what their house does, who pushes him forward as a speaker.

Frankly, I think these challenges are greater for us than they are for other conferences on digital change that focus more on technology than they do on business practices. Very few publishers are masters of tech; usually they’re working with outside suppliers who are happy to share best practices. But business practices are different; they’re more sensitive. Sometimes the reluctance to share them is sound. Sometimes constraints are even legally required. Since our job is to focus on business practices, we’re glad to have relationships with very knowledgable players who will candidly engage with us on these challenges so we can figure out the best way to protect true proprietary knowledge but still disseminate valuable information.

We’re really proud of the illustrious group we have gotten to advise our efforts, and we get great value from them even though their first responsibility is to the company they work for. We feel confident that this group helps us cast a net that is wide and broad enough to assure us that any major development in the trade book world will hit our radar screen and that we’ll know if there are informed people willing to talk about it.

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This is the third of four posts covering the subject matter of an address I had hoped to make to the Publishers Association in London on April 28 but which was cancelled by the Iceland volcano. In the first post, we explored the nature of change in publishing and I tried to underscore how much disruption technology can cause in media in a 20-year period. In the second post, I sketched a vision of what I thought the communication ecosystem will look like 20 years from now. In this post, I outline what I expect the new prevailing model will become and look for some current efforts that point to it. And the last post in this group will take a more short-term view and discuss some changes we might expect to see in the next three years.

Over the next 20 years, the power to put books on store shelves — or, for non-trade publishers: the power to put “books” into people’s hands by other means — will lose its leverage. It won’t provide marketplace advantage anymore. And furthermore, the channels of remuneration for content won’t be book-specific, so there will be no particular efficiency and probably some competitive disadvantage to being a specialist delivering books, or content in book-length and book-form.

At the same time, and not necessarily connected, content-and-community worlds will become increasingly evident on the Web. An advertising agency in New York called Verso has already seen the opportunity in creating vertical “channels”: collections of 100 or 150 web sites that are topic-specific. Their first thought was to sell publishers on targeted advertising campaigns working those channels. I am sure many more opportunities to market through those logical and topic-selected collections of sites will become evident over time.

What I’m imagining is that web “front ends” will develop to all these subjects. Google is one way to search for Paris, France, and find double-digit millions of possible pieces of content. But the concept of a thoughtful and organized AllParis.com (instead of the ad-driven uncurated link farm you get from that URL now) seems inevitable. Imagine that everything that today has a Wikipedia entry had organized and crowd-enhanced access to bloggers, references, lists of books, related travel information, and, most of all, connections to the people who were thinking, writing, researching, and living out that thing. I believe that’s will we’ll see develop over time, organically and driven by commercial awareness as people how to make money by fostering it.

There are a handful of signposts to what I’m thinking about in our experience already. The most fully developed version of this vision is the Publishers Marketplace community built, from scratch and with no outside capital at all, by Michael Cader. Starting with one of the earliest, and still one of the best-executed, versions of a daily newsletter built on links to the most relevant posted content of the last 24 hours, Cader has built a community of thousands of members paying substantial fees for the benefit of being part of it. I could do a whole series of blogposts on the Marketplace site alone; I won’t. But if you’re a publisher seriously trying to envision a future, you should spend some time with it. And keep two things in mind:

1. He did it with no money.

2. He did it by using content as bait, to attract eyeballs, and he monetized the community.

Michael Cader has a very unique set of personal skills that enabled him to do it with no money. But the process of content as bait to attract the eyeballs and then providing tools, features, and databaes to monetize the community is one we will see replicated many times in the next 20 years to build many brands that will, in effect, be the publishing community of the 21st century.

Another example of doing this right that has recently debuted is from Sourcebooks and it’s called Poetry Speaks. Dominique Raccah, the Publisher (and owner) at Sourcebooks, has published poetry successfully for many years. She’s also navigated the world of sound, selling CD-and-book packages for well over a decade. Maybe that helped, or maybe it was just “vision”, but in Poetry Speaks she’s created a site that is “open” to all poets and poetry publishers. It provides tools and it provides reasons for the poets and the fans of poets and poetry to gather and interact. Yes, the site sells poems and books and audios, but “buy this book” doesn’t hit you in the face. Poetry does.

Our client Sterling Publishing is moving ahead with a web community initiative based on their publishing assets in photography. Joe Craven, who spearheads new business initiatives, looked ahead to the sales decline of their key lists in that subjects. He figured it was worth a shot to put lots of content on the web for free, attract a community, and then try to monetize the community. As a result, there will be a major web effort launching this Fall. Pixiq will use an editorial team already in place to build out a web presence, using legacy content, acquriing content through relationships they had developed from long experience, and leveraging professional and semi-professional connections built over many years of publishing to the audiences of professional, semi-professional, and amateur photographers.

Oxford University Press has just launched a new initiative which represents another way to develop a vertical called Oxford Bibliographies Online. They’re using their considerable academic expertise to delivered curated and constantly updated bibliographies by subject as a subscription product. This is brand new and just announced, but the idea has promise as one that will give them a unique position in each discipline for which they implement it and which can be a component of a vertical strategy in less academically-intense areas. Although the OUP initiative will garner subscribers mostly from institutional library customers, one would think Sourcebooks and Sterling will watch OBO with some interest. Surely, the function of curation being served here will be applicable to Poetry Speaks and Pixaq as well.

Both Sourcebooks and Sterling are aware of the fact that the web activity they are generating to create these communities can also be useful to sell books. But in the forefront of their thinking is  ”the community”: what people they are trying to attract and what they can give those people that will make them come, stay, create value, and perceive value. The fact that any thought of immediate book merchandising is secondary is what makes these initiatives stand out to me. And both of these sites will, in time, develop real business models that are hardly dependent on content sales at all. That’s already true of Publishers Marketplace.

By creating a brand and a community for their sites which is really independent of the parochial interests of their own publishing programs, it makes it much more likely that Poetry Speaks and Pixiq can, in time, become important components of their competitor’s marketing efforts. Which side of that fence do you want to be on for the most important subjects you publish?

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I have gotten some requests, in comments and off-the-blog, to write what I was going to say to the AGM of the PA in an appearance I was supposed to make there on Wednesday, April 28. I felt terrible about having to cancel an engagement that was booked many months ago but it was tied into a trip to the London Book Fair which was cancelled due to the Iceland volcano. Since I was really prepared for the talk, updating the “Stay Ahead of the Shift” speech from last year’s Book Expo and adding some thoughts about the immediate future in the US market that I think British publishers should take on board, the suggestion is one I can readily respond to.

The premise underlying this piece (and really much of my work) is that all of us, to function, must have a view of how we think things in publishing will change. Change has been a constant in publishing forever, of course. In my lifetime, in the US, mass-market paperbacks and mall stores have risen and fallen; wholesalers have gone from local warehouses that replenish bestsellers to national operations that can provide hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of titles to any store in 24 hours; general trade publishing has consolidated from tens of real competitors to a Big Six; and, in the past 20 years or so, the superstore, usually run by a chain, with over 100,000 titles has became about the only brick-and-mortar formula that seemed sustainable. (NB: On that last point, I think more focused, smaller stores would actually work better, but it would take a large player with a real supply chain to try them to find out.) When I started in the 1970s, the big national accounts were less than 20% of a publisher’s sales and the field reps were responsible for much more than half the business. It would be inflating the importance of the field now to say that those numbers have reversed.

But the changes we’ve been experiencing in the last ten years have been much more dramatic. The combination of used books and the Long Tail enabled by print-on-demand, all delivered by Internet retailing, has eaten relentlessly, if invisibly, into the market for publishers’ new offerings and estabished backlist. The growth of Internet ordering has sapped the viability of the brick-and-mortar network and in the past decade we’ve seen shelf space shrink following relentless growth since the end of World War II.

And, at the same time, even before the recent growth in ebook sales provoked a new digital consciousness, marketing opportunities have been shifting from the print and broadcast world to online.

Publishers have adapted to these changes by changing their sales force deployments, discovering the virtues of social network marketing, and, more recently, going to XML-based origination procedures that make it easier to deliver a book’s content in a variety of ways (the principal ones being as a book, as an ebook, and as a web page.) Publishers who saw the future coming were able to prepare for it. Cambridge University Press, for example, had tens of thousands of old backlist titles set up for print-on-demand long before other publishers did and they reaped a harvest of sales and profits in the past decade as a result. Last year, Simon & Schuster shifted resources from field reps to telemarketers. In an age when Skype allows free face-to-face phone calls and gas prices do nothing but rise, one can’t help feeling they are also getting ahead of a curve by doing that.

Changes of this kind make it clear that a publisher is required to have a view about where things are likely to be going  to plan their business intelligently. It is our purpose to explore that: first with a long view, looking perhaps 20 to 25 years out, and then with a more immediate one thinking about changes that are literally “coming right up.” Because it’s what I know best, this view is US-centric, but because the US is the largest English-speaking market in the world and the view from where I sit (intellectually, not geographically) is that the world is now any and every publisher’s market, these thoughts should be relevant to a UK publisher even if they aren’t primarily centered on the UK market.

I hope we can agree on two things before we start, though. One is that increasingly profound change is inevitable. And the other is that all future planning, just as inevitably, depends on one’s view of what that change will be.

So, with that as preamble, I want to try to envision two futures: one long-term — which we will call “the next 20 years” — and one short-term, looking ahead just two or three years.

Before tackling the 20 year vision, which will be disturbingly dissimilar to where we are now, I want to remind you from recent history how much can change in 20 years. Once again, I cite US-based examples, but I think these will probably be reminiscent of some aspect of local history for every market in the world.

In 1968, television in the United States was dominated by three over-the-air networks that divided pretty much 100% of the national audience, approximately in thirds on average, but it was not uncommon for a single show to have half the national audience. Major cities had a few local stations available in addition; most of the country did not.

By 1988, cable television penetration had reached well over half US households, delivering a choice of many dozens of channels and network TV’s share of the audience had plunged. Today there are five national TV networks in the US and they share substantially less than half the total audience. Top-rated shows fight for the attention of 15% of the country, not fifty.

In 1982, record companies were on the verge of explosive growth. The Sony Walkman and other portable cassette players were joining cassette players in cars, creating an incentive for maturing boomers to re-buy music they’d purchased 10 or 20 years before on records. A very few years later, the same phenomenon repeated with CDs. Back catalog in new formats became a gold mine for established companies.

But by 2002, the CD sales had turned into a curse. They were gold masters, easily ripped by any computer into the new digital formats which ultimately meant iTunes and iPod for the most part. The transition from analog to digital, which stripped the record companies of the power they had which was based on their ability to put product on store shelves, was accelerated by the CDs that all consumers had by then. The fuel for the final burst of record company profitability in the 1990s resulted in the fire that burned them up.

Newspapers in the US had their biggest year yet for advertising sales in 1989. Things got even better in the early 1990s, with growth in classified ads leading the way.

But then along came the Web. Classified advertising moved to Craig’s List, in some ways to eBay, and to many niche sites for camera buffs and auto aficionados and a host of online real estate communities. Google and Yahoo and the web itself disaggregated and reaggregated the content newspapers produced. Both the advertising model and the circulation that drove the advertising were challenged. Twenty years later, many newspapers have died and those that survive are hanging on by their fingernails and desperately grasping for a formula that will allow them to sustain their business online.

In 1975, the mass market paperback business in the United States was the tail wagging the hardcover dog. Agents and authors were balking at the idea that the hardcover house would get 50% of the subsequent paperback income, even though it had always been that way. In 1979, Crown Publishing sold the paperback rights for the long-forgotten novel “Princess Daisy” to Bantam for $3.1 million, a number that still stands as the record for a mass market licensing deal. As my father predicted in his seminal book, In Cold Type, published in 1982, the distribution model for mass markets was inherently inefficient and couldn’t last for trade-type books. It didn’t. By 1995, mass market publishing was a genre business, which was how it started after World War II and what it is, for the most part, today.

Twenty years ago, we went online through very slow modems to very limited and klunky online portals: Prodigy, Compuserve, and the seemingly-modern America Online. The World Wide Web hadn’t yet been invented!

Today we carry the world’s information in the palm of our hand and we’re annoyed if we can’t get a connection, 24/7/365.

And twenty years ago, the book business was on the verge of its last great boom. In the US, Wall Street was just discovering that very large free-standing bookstores, offering consumers 100,000 titles or more under one roof, were cash-generating machines. They opened the vaults for Barnes & Noble and Borders to open hundreds of such stores across the United States. In the mid-1990s, Amazon.com was founded, enabling sales even deeper into the backlist.

But, although it wasn’t as dramatic as the record companies’ distribution of CDs, there were the seeds of old publishing’s destruction sown. Amazon also enabled the sales of used books and the Long Tail, books that had — before Amazon and Ingram’s Lightning Print made the idea of “out of print” an anachronism — stopped competing with the new offerings of publishers. Now they were alive again. That alone would have made things much more difficult. In addition, the impact of growing online sales steadily weaken bookstores and consequently undermine the primary USP  publishers always had: that they could put books on retail shelves. These factors have made establishment publishing an increasingly difficult proposition every day of the past decade.

This admitted stage-setter is the first of what will be a four-part post. The next installment will spell out a vision of the world of communication into which publishing will fit 20 years from now. The third piece will suggest what a publisher will look like then. And the fourth will cover some changes we can expect over the next three years which, among other things, might call for some recalibration of the competition between UK-based publishers and US-based ones. I’ll publish one each day that I don’t have something else until all four are up. And I’ll have added links to the subsequent pieces in this postscript as they’re made available.

Bookmark It:

The New York Times published two apparently unrelated articles over the weekend which address questions raised by the rise of digital content creation and distribution. One was an op-ed piece in the Saturday paper by author Mark Aronson about the challenge of collecting the permissions necessary to include copyrighted material in enhanced ebooks. On Sunday, the Magazine published a piece by Randy Cohen, “The Ethicist”, about the rights and wrongs of downloading a pirated book file in a situation where the file’s acquirer had already bought and paid for a copy of the book presented in the file.

These are both thoughtful pieces to which I hope to add some useful observations.

Aronson’s piece elaborates on the challenge facing authors and publishers who want to include useful material in enhanced ebooks, particularly for non-fiction. He is an experienced non-fiction writer who knows about the challenge of collecting permissions for material in his books. He’s right when he says that the problem really escalates for enhanced ebooks. Aronson’s focus is on material from the “archives of the world’s art (now managed by gimlet-eyed venture capitalists” and other material controlled by museums and academic libraries.

We have lived for a long time with a very cumbersome permissions world. To use a picture of a great painting or a museum’s invention or artifact requires painstaking individual requests for permission and negotiations (usually) by the author, who is charged by contract with delivering this material with permissions already secured to the publisher. The usage matrix has been pretty well defined for print: what kind of book; what size printing; what langagues or territories affected; what number of copies to be printed, but each licensor converts that data into its own pricing policy.

The amounts of money charged are collectively of great value to the licensors. Viewed on an individual project basis, though, they are sometimes painfully high for the author or publisher but small enough for the licensor that lengthy negotiation that could lead to concessions based on mutual self-interest occurs relatively seldom.

Along come ebooks and enhanced ebooks (and, for that matter, web presentations of material in books which might be for promotional purposes.) In many cases, publishers have simply foregone the illustrated material for the digital presentation because securing the rights is either too painful or too expensive a process. The process that publishing has lived with in the print world needs to be fixed, says Aronson, and then we can move on to do something about how this can work better for digital content delivery as well.

So, far, I agree with him. It is the specifics of his remedy with which I’d suggest some modification.

Aronson’s suggeston for print is that the Author’s Guild and Association of American Publishers combined (coincidentally or not, the two entities who are the plaintiffs and negotiators of the Google Books settlement currently pending) establish a “grid of standard rates” and then “compel rights holders to confirm to industry norms.”

Two problems with that. One is that the AG and AAP are really not in the business of securing licenses for publishers. The entity that is in that business is Copyright Clearance Center, the CCC (and, full disclosure: our client.) What Aronson is suggesting is actually a hybrid of two kinds of licensing that CCC enables: “collective” licensing, such as is done for photocopying where companies agree to allow their material to be copied, CCC collects annual licensing fees from corporations and other entities, and shares them based on surveys of actual usage; and individual licenses granted by a copyright-owner for use on the c/r owner’s terms. In the latter case, CCC facilitates many of the transactions but doesn’t tell the rightsholder what to charge (or conversely, tell the licensor what to pay.)

CCC is positioned better than any other entity to attack this problem, but it’s much harder to implement such a simple solution for printed books. The differences in value of different copyrighted material can be vast and the rightsholders know that. The owners of the most valuable material are going to be reluctant to license it for an “average” fee and there is nothing the AG or AAP or CCC could do to compel or persuade them to act against their own interests.

Rightsholders know that when a book is created and printed, many tens, perhaps hundreds, of thousands of dollars of investment are involved. They want their fair share which, from their perspective, would be “what the traffic would bear”, not an arbitrary, standard amount.

But the enhanced ebook problem that triggered Aronson’s piece, and for which he offers the additional “solution” of payments based on actual sales (i.e. downloads), might actually be amenable to a collective-based licensing solution (but still a hybrid.)

In the case of enhanced ebooks, the marketplace is going to be much more challenging. There will be many more rights requests because relief from the minimum investments in printing will put far more creative works into play. And at the same time, the pool of potential licensors is growing by leaps and bounds as we move toward a digital camera in the hands of every cell phone user. Because the barriers to entry for ebooks, enhanced or otherwise, are so much lower than for press-run books, these will reach a point (if they haven’t already) where the cost of the transaction — reaching the right person, connecting with them, describing the potential licensed use and negotiating the price — is going to be more than it is worth, regardless of the licensing fee. And these costs will effectively be driving down the licensing fee.

Imagine if each bar had to negotiate with each songwriter to put their tune in the jukebox. That’s a considerably less complicated problem than the one we’ll have with images and text licenses for ebooks, and still it can only be solved with a collective licensing solution from BMI or ASCAP, which deliver a service close to what CCC does for photocopying.

So we see applying a hybrid similar to what Aronson describes, but with some nuanced differences. The future we’d imagine is for CCC to start gathering rights for a reservoir of content that can be licensed on a standardized basis for ebooks and web use, with the understanding that the fee for each individual use is going to be low enough that it wouldn’t have been worth the transaction cost on both sides to have negotiated it. The most valuable material would remain outside that reservoir (because the rightsholders wouldn’t agree to put it in) and would, therefore, be bypassed by most licensors when they put their products together. So if you hold your stuff out you can sell it for more each time, but you’re likely to sell it less often.

Aronson’s explicit concern is that only the “most popular subjects” will be covered in enhanced ebooks under the present regime. The solution suggested here would probably appeal to the owners of material on the least popular subjects; those that are rarely licensed now and where anything that would encourage more widespread use would be attractive.

It is also important to remember that digital presentations have a capability print doesn’t: they can deliver the reader directly to the digital doorstep of the licensor with a link. If you run an obscure museum with an obscure collection of art and artifacts, a linked licensed image could deliver you traffic and customers very effectively. A program such as what we’re envisioning here could make the link a standard component of the licensing arrangement.

The bottom line on this story is that I agree with Aronson that we need a new model for permissions in the digital world or important creativity and commerce will be choked. But we have to start with the pool of material that is of the least individual value in order to start at all. As that pool grows and is used increasingly, the incentive will grow for rightsholders to place more and more of their material in it.

As for the Ethicist…

The question arose because somebody who bought the 1,074-page new Stephen King novel didn’t want to carry it around on a trip and found the publisher had not yet issued an ebook. This person, who says they “generally disapprove of illegal downloads” felt they were okay in this case because they had previously bought the book and the publisher wasn’t facilitating their need for a digital copy.

The Ethicist agreed.

This position outraged my friend, the literary agent Richard Curtis who, on his eReads blog, takes strong exception. Quoting Richard’s two most emphatic paragraphs:

These dirtbags now have a champion in Randy Cohen. Go on, help yourself. The author and publisher have been paid once and don’t need to be paid for another edition of the same book.  While you’re at it, rip off the book club and the mass market paperback editions.

Cohen’s exculpation of this morally challenged idiot buying an e-book from a pirate site is the equivalent of condoning the purchase of black market goods from a fence. Does anybody know what Talmudic tractate he consulted to justify stealing – to describe it as “illegal” but not “immoral?” If so, we invite you to submit chapter and verse.

Personally, I find the characterization “stealing” overblown (obvious to me, but I might well be provoked to explain more by commenters to this post) and the distinction between “ethical” and “legal” perfectly comprehensible.

The Ethicist’s piece already acknowledged Richard’s point of view. Cohen interviewed and quoted his own friend, Jamie Raab of Grand Central Publishing (Hachette) who said:

“Anyone who downloads a pirated e-book has, in effect, stolen the intellectual property of an author and publisher. To condone this is to condone theft.”

I see this as a digital transition problem (it won’t be long before an ebook edition is available for every book for which a print book is available) and, if the author is suffering in this case (and I’m not sure there’s any demonstration here that the author is), it is partly the fault of the publisher whose policies haven’t matured sufficiently to deliver a cash customer what they want to buy.

Would Raab or Curtis have taken a different position if the King book purchaser in question had scanned his or her own copy to make a digital file to carry in their ereader? Or would they consider that a legitimate “first sale” right? (And what would a court say?) It is hard for me to understand how the King reader who, after all, paid more for the print copy than they would have for an ebook if the publisher had made an ebook available should be characterized as a “thief” (Raab) or a “dirtbag” (Curtis.)

Joe Esposito and I wrote a piece almost four years ago strongly suggesting that publishers should declare a clear policy about the digital rights conveyed with the purchase of a print book. We wrote the piece in the earliest period of contention about what Google was doing scanning books, so our point was made from a library-centric perspective. But we anticipated problems like this one and we concluded our piece this way:

Developed, articulated policies about digital licensing are a much better way to protect publishers’ interests than lawsuits against marketing channels. The next decade or two will see the relationship between digital and printed content dramatically recast. Publishers can embrace that relationship, or watch it—and themselves—fall apart.

I’d say that the publisher and author would be standing on much firmer ground to complain if there were a stated policy about the digital rights that are conferred with a print purchase. The mere act of creating this policy would force a publisher to think through situations exactly like this one, which I really don’t think many have.

Where we stand now is that laws and policies written before any of these issues were contemplated (or possible) are transparently inadequate and insensitive to current reality. As a guy who accepts the necessity of DRM specifically to discourage casual sharing that could seriously undermine the commercial basis of publishing, I’m on board with the idea that we in the industry want to steer people away from piracy. But I don’t think we’re going to win many friends, or many arguments, putting no policy in place to cover these situations and then villifying paying customers who try to address their own legitimate needs.

Bookmark It:

I showed up Tuesday morning at the gorgeous Cipriani restaurant and ballroom on 42nd Street for The Future of Publishing Summit, not knowing what to expect. I had been invited to attend this in an email last month which promised an interesting program (lots of big tech companies plus a book publishing “track” led by the always-interesting Carolyn Pittis of HarperCollins) at an all-day conference. I was invited because of my status as a “thought leader”; an all-day event like this with no fee is not unheard of, but it also isn’t common. I accepted.

Then when I heard from my friend Evan Schnittman of OUP over the weekend that he’d be going, I decided I should look at “what is this” more carefully. So I went to the web site for it and I found it almost impossible to figure out who was staging this thing and what they hoped to get out of it. My prior experience with free events — many I helped organize that were run by VISTA Computer Services (now renamed Publishing Technology) in the 1990s and several since hosted by MarkLogic — tended to have the organizer highly branded and visible. This one was opaque. “About us” on the “The Future of Publishing” web site described the conference, the agenda, and the goal of “setting the agenda for publishing’s new business model amid digital disruption”, and it led to a link listing the sponsoring companies. But nowhere did it say, “I’m the organizer of this event and this is why I want you there.”

When I got to Cipriani in the morning, I started to see some people I knew: Evan, David Young and Maja Thomas from Hachette, Peter Balis from Wiley, Dominique Raccah from Sourcebooks. “What is this about?”, I asked them. “Who is behind this?” Nobody really seemed to know.

As the day developed, it seemed that the two parties in charge were Tim Bajarin, President of Creative Strategies and Colin Crawford, former EVP Digital at IDG Communications, Inc. Bajarin kicked off the session recalling a critical meeting at UCLA in 1990 that really charted the course for CD-Rom development.

Uh oh, I thought. I wonder if these guys know what “CD-Rom” calls up in the mind of anybody in the room who was in trade publishing the 1990s.

What I had walked into took me back to the early 1990s when I went to a conference sponsored very openly sponsored by Microsoft for book publishers. The message then was, “here are the amazing things we are going to be able to do with CD-Roms in the very near future. To realize the true value of this technology, we need content. We’re not sure exactly how you make money from the content, but, hey, guys, get creative.” And, in fact, that was the message that the five key sponsors of this Summit — Sony, Adobe, Marvell, Qualcomm, and HP — had for their publishing audience.

This was the takeaway. Consumers are going to be navigating their content on faster, smarter, lighter, and cheaper devices that will open up more flexible and robust content delivery and consumption models. Publishers should take advantage of this! But “taking advantage” in this case often meant “more sound, more pictures, more video”. And that recalls the veritable disaster of CD-Rom development for book publishers: largely uncontrolled spending in development of new kinds of products, ostensibly but loosely rooted in books, that had no established market and never found one. The iPad had already unleashed several sparks of enthusiasm for enhanced ebooks; this conference wanted to pour fuel on those sparks and start a real fire burning.

The format of the day was that each of the primary sponsors got a half-hour to present their technology, following 30 minutes from Tom Turvey of Google on the forthcoming Google Editions. (Turvey joked about the fact that he had given the presentation to just about everybody in the room before in their office or his.) I’d say that most of the 30 minute presentations packed at least 5 minutes of useful information into them. There were definitely people buzzing about the fact that Adobe has a workaround to enable Flash-like content on the iPhone, which doesn’t support Flash. We all got the message that connectivity will be more robust and more routine; that both LCD color and e-ink (and before long, color e-ink) will be available in a staggering number of devices (or “form factors.”)

With all that capability in your hand, you can pull up just about any content you want. “Why would you read a plain old book” was certainly part of the message.

Then after a really terrific lunch, about half to two-thirds of the audience (I’d reckon; couldn’t really see because we were broken into three groups in different rooms for books, magazines, and newspapers and no more than a fourth of the audience was there for the final part of the program after the breakouts) remained to hear the content-based presentations. The intention here was “the tech guys will explain what’s coming in the morning; the publishing guys will explain where they are in the early afternoon; and then our experts will ‘pull it all together’ at the end of the day, allowing us to leave with a new plan for publishing.” The “experts”were additional sponsors, of course, and creators of tools or platforms for products or presentation: Zinio, Notion Ink, ScrollMotion, Vook, and Skiff. These are all very worthy companies with substantial propositions that have made real inroads working with established media.

But are they qualified to chart a commercial course forward for complex publishing enterprises? Frankly, I don’t think so.

Cader said privately on Monday that he had joined Conferences Anonymous. He wasn’t going. Admittedly, these guys had a rough row to hoe trying to tell people something new following on the heels of Digital Book World in January, Tools of Change in February, Pub Business Conference and Expo earlier in March, and an ABA meeting on digital change in between. People who are really junkies for this stuff were out at SXSW, which apparently also didn’t seem as revelatory to some savvy book practioners as it did last year (or so said my buddy from the Microsoft conference two decades ago, Lorraine Shanley.)

My sense of this one was “nice try”, but it didn’t work. The superficial logic of putting the tech and publishing people together, laying out the picture from each side and then coming up with “answers” within a single stimulating day is appealing, but it is ultimately impractical. Book publishers (and, I suspect, other publishers as well) aren’t going to do much today based on what they see tech might deliver two or four years from now. And book publishing isn’t one business anyhow. As Turvey of Google, who understands the publishing business better than any other tech company representative I know and, frankly, better than most publishers, spelled out in the beginning: “book publishing is about five different businesses that don’t have much to do with each other.” We in publishing know that very well. Tech companies that want to get our attention need to make clear that they know that too.

Bookmark It:

It is customary for those of us who do crystal-ball gazing to make some calls about the year ahead at around the time the celebrants head for Times Square. I am not a man to flout custom. Here are some of the things I expect we’ll see in 2010.

1. At least one major book will have several different enhanced ebook editions. This will result from a combination of circumstances: the different capabilities of ebook hardware and reader platforms, the desire of publishers and authors to justify print-like prices for ebooks, the sheer ability of authors and their fans to do new things electronically, and the dawning awareness that there are at least two distinctly different ebook markets: one just wants to read the print book on an electronic screen and the other wants links and videos and other enhancements that really change the print book experience. (Corrolary prediction: the idea of an enhanced ebook that is only sold “temporarily” in the first window when the book comes out, which has been floated by at least one publisher, will be short-lived. Whatever is made for sale in electronic form will remain available approximately forever. Or, put another way, if you have a product that requires no inventory investment that has a market, you’ll keep satisfying it.)

2. Here come some new retail book outlets, but can publishers afford the risk of selling to them? The growing incidence of bookstore-less cities will provoke the mass merchants to explore a greatly increased title selection inside their stores as a magnet to attract disenfranchised bookstore customers. The early emphasis will be on children’s books and illustrated how-to: books for which there is high value to seeing them before buying them. They might even see this expansion as a margin-booster because if they’re responding to scarcity (as they would be), then discounting might not be as necessary as it is with their bestseller-only strategy now. Publishers will be wary of this new initiative, knowing that it could fail and lead to large returns but it will be on the drawing boards by the end of 2010.

3. Thanks to digital, there is no minimum length for a book anymore. Ebooks that are too short to be print books will become a real factor in ebook sales, opening up new opportunities for publishers but even more for authors. Short fiction is already well established in the romance genre and some major publishers have broken out stories from anthologies as separate items to be sold on Kindle. In 2010, authors and agents will discover that shorter-than-a-book works can be the subject of useful experimentation and learning through electronic publishing and, by the end of the year, it will become a frequently-employed device. Periodical media (newspapers and magazines) will also see this paid delivery mechanism as an alternative worth experimentation for them as well. After all, if a big publisher can unbundle a short story anthology to sell the individual stories as Kindle editons, why couldn’t The New Yorker sell the short fiction it publishes that way as well? This concept has been tipped by the announcement in 2009 than the web site Daily Beast will be delivering shorter books in a timely manner through electronic distribution.

4. Ebooks will require a new industry directory (and it won’t be printed.) Driven by new entrants in the field, self-publishing, and unbundled aggregations of print books, the gap between the items listed in “Books in Print” and the items that should be listed in a directory of “Ebooks Available” will continue to grow. There has been a robust conversation in a corner of the book community about whether all ebook editions need ISBNs, but that’s really only one part of a much larger metadata problem. In 2010 we are likely to see at least one serious effort to deliver a new online directory for ebooks.

5. Big publishers start to match their offerings to their marketing capability. The rearrangement of the big publishers’ IP portfolios will begin in 2010 as they emphasize what they do best: deliver narrative-writing and children’s books to multiple outlets in large quantities. This reshuffle will only begin to be evident in 2010, but we will see small slices of big publishers’ lists sold or licensed to specialist small publishers and we will see the beginnings of genre consolidation among the big publishers, with some publishers beefing up and others exiting romance, science fiction, and mystery. In 2010 the latter will take the form of list growth or cutbacks, not the sale of whole lists to a competitor. We’ll see that in 2011 or 2012.

6. Ebooks become significant revenue contributors for many titles. By the end of 2010, ebook sales will routinely constitute at least 20% of the units moved for midlist and the lower tier of bestsellers and at least 10% of the units for really big bestsellers. (These are predictions for narrative writing; illustrated books and kids’ picture books will lag considerably.)

7. Circumstances will outrun the ebook “windowing” strategy. By the end of 2010, the experiment with “windowing” ebooks — withholding them from release when the hardcover comes out — will end as increasing evidence persuades publishers and agents that ebook sales (at any price) spur print book sales (at any price), not cannibalize or discourage them and, furthermore, that this withholding effort does nothing to restrain Amazon’s proclivity for discounting. (Amazon can’t quit with so many competitors joining them; see number 11 below.) There will also be steadily increasing evidence that most readers distinctly prefer either digital books or paper for their narrative reading and the real minority is the people who routinely read both.

8. In the digital world, geographical territories will be found not to make much sense. The problem of managing territorial rights for ebooks will be a growing problem the industry will have to deal with. As ebook platforms are increasingly separated from dedicated readers (a move even Amazon encourages with its Kindle software working on PCs and iPhones by the beginning of 2010 with more to come throughout the year), people all over the world express their frustration about books they are blocked from obtaining by obsolete rights regimes. With the number of ebook platforms and outlets increasing, it becomes almost impossible to police these rights effectively. Authors with global audiences become increasingly sensitive to the frustration of their fans and, through their agents, lobby for “open markets” for ebooks to solve the problem. US publishers back the idea and smaller market publishers hate it, but by the end of 2010 it is obvious that territorial rights will be relegated to print books only, meaning the end could be in sight for the entire concept of territoriality (but, because of old contracts and lots of national laws, it will be a very long sunset.) Pushing back against this concept might be publishers in countries with large English-language populations (Israel comes to mind, but I know publishers getting offers from Nigeria) who want to carve out a national monopoly for their own local editions in English. But that would be print-only.

9. Authors with clout start looking more like publishers. Some authors who have developed huge followings on Facebook and Twitter and their own blogs start to demonstrate that they can have a serious positive impact on the books of other authors they favor. This leads to a variation on the time-honored practice of getting blurbs and jacket quote-lines as savvy editors and agents suss who the new author-megaphones are and line up to get their support. The prediction for 2010 is that this will start to become obvious. The likely prediction for 2011 will be that this leads to authors becoming quasi-publishers or, perhaps, getting “imprint” deals from established houses to select and promote other people’s writing.

10. The “shakeout” in ebook delivery mechanisms won’t start this year; proliferation rules in 2010. With the arrival of Google Editions in the first or second quarter of 2010, there will be multiple channels to the ebook market through a variety of players: Google, Amazon, Apple, Baker & Taylor’s Blio, Kobo (formerly Shortcovers, the ebook operation begun by Indigo of Canada), and Sony will not be alone! During the course of 2010, the industry will become aware that there are three moving parts here: the device ebooks are viewed on, the ebook “reader” software the device employs, and the retailing and merchandising experience for the consumer shopping (or searching) for a particular book. As it becomes clear that ebook readers employ multiple devices and can accept a variety of platforms, the shopping experience will become appreciated as the most important determinant of consumer loyalty for most books. This is a moving target; everybody will be working on it. But as we enter 2010, it looks like Kobo has figured this out better (so far) than anybody else.

11. Retailers will demonstrate that they have more at stake with each file they sell than the revenue from that sale. Because there are so many players fighting for a foothold in ebooks, discounting them deeply will be the “new normal.” This will enable publishers to keep their “established” retail price (and their revenue per unit sold) high, but consumers will increasingly see ebooks as the less expensive alternative.

12. We will see greater integration of ebook offerings with other products and services. The merchandising challenge for ebooks will ultimately be met web page by web page over the entire Internet. This future paradigm will be tipped in 2010 when we start to see ebook stores on more and more non-book web sites, each trying to deliver some sort of value-add with curation or follow-on products.

13. Book publishers will have to admit to real confusion about what the product is that they produce. The big meme coming out of 2010 will be “what is a book?” Publishers will increasingly be releasing productions that contain video, audio, animation, slide shows, and interactive game elements. Movie, TV, and game producers will see an alternate marketing and revenue channel available through “ebookifying” content they have and moving it through book channels like a “tie-in.” Where one stops and the other begins will become increasingly difficult to see (and increasingly irrelevant).

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.

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