Apple computers have been my constant companions for more than thirty years — in fact, I’m writing this column on my trusty iMac.
I’m not exactly what you would call an “early adopter.” I’ve never stood in line outside an Apple store — in fact, I do my utmost to avoid them. We tend to buy the last hot new thing, not the next one. Our house is cluttered with old iPods and iPads. We use a refurbished Mac Mini as a media hub. There’s even an ancient iPhone on my desk that I use for my business line (I got it cheap on eBay).
As you can tell, my appetite for sexy electronics is somewhat curbed by my inner cheapskate.
But I do like the kind of technology that solves problems, rather than creates them. I’m a fan of Apple’s slick, sometimes even supercilious, approach to user interfaces. I’ll tolerate a pretty high level of condescension from a company, so long as I don’t have to learn the tedious priestly language required by the world of PCs.
So you could say that I have more than a passing interest in the future of Apple, Inc., which is why I tuned into Tim Cook’s presentation last Wednesday at the Flint Center for the Performing Arts, the same venue that Mr. Cook’s famous predecessor, Steve Jobs, used to introduce the first Macintosh.
Mr. Cook has been working very hard to convince the world that Apple can thrive in a world without Mr. Jobs, and the consensus after Wednesday’s presentation was that he succeeded. He introduced the new iPhone 6; a new system for electronic payments; and a much anticipated wearable computer called the Apple Watch.
The presentation followed along traditional lines: technocrats wearing scrupulously casual clothing pumped up the crowd with cool-sounding jargon about the next big thing; comically overproduced videos showcased perfect people enjoying their Apple-enhanced lives; and attractive products were demonstrated that actually looked easy to use.
At the end, as a reward for the audience’s patience, and to bolster Apple’s reputation as the “cool kid” of technology, Mr. Cook introduced the rock group U2, which performed a song from its new album Songs of Innocence. As a final kicker, Mr. Cook announced that Songs of Innocence would be given free to anyone with an iTunes account.
Up to that point, I’d been watching with what could be described as vague approval. I’m certainly not going to buy a new iPhone when my indestructible, dirt cheap, antique flip phone is doing such a fine job. The hot new feature of the iPhone 6 is that the screen is much bigger, something that doesn’t impress me on two fronts: I think huge phones make people look like toddlers; and Apple is playing catch-up in the so-called “phablet” arena, which automatically makes the product less interesting to me.
The Apple Watch seems to hold more promise. The idea of wearable computing isn’t exactly new, but no one has managed to make it stick. The Apple Watch, with its well designed user interface, is a real contender.
But there’s a catch: you have to have an iPhone to use it!
And since we’ve already established that I’m not going to rush out to buy a new iPhone 6, or even an iPhone 5, which is also compatible with the Apple Watch, that means I won’t be wearing one of those cool things on my wrist any time soon.
But I’ll admit that my ears perked up at mention of the U2 album giveaway — and not because I’m a huge fan of U2.
As someone in the “content” business myself, over the last twenty years I’ve watched the publishing industry turn itself inside out trying to adapt to the change in how people consume media. (Note the use of the formulation “consume media,” which, in my line of work, used to be the time-honored phrase: “read books.”)
These days, people expect their content to be free. If they can’t get it through legitimate means, they turn to online piracy. This is a golden age for the consumer; not so much for the novelist, say, who suddenly discovers that his work is worth…nothing.
What could U2 possibly have to gain, I wondered, by giving away its music? A larger audience? But it’s already one of the most popular — and profitable — acts in the music business.
As it happens, U2 didn’t give anything away at all. Apple reportedly struck a deal with the band worth an estimated 100 million dollars in exchange for the rights to the album.
Which begs the question: what’s in it for Apple?
And here’s where we get to the real meat of Mr. Cook’s presentation, the unsexy electronic payment system that was more or less glossed over last Wednesday, and with it the answer to the question, “Why is Apple giving away media content worth 100 million dollars?”
The answer: it’s all about credit card numbers. Thanks to its wildly successful iTunes program, Apple has hundreds of millions of credit cards on file. In order to get the free U2 album, tens — perhaps hundreds — of millions of new iTunes accounts will be created, almost all of which will be secured by a credit card.
So what will Apple do with a billion credit card numbers? Nothing evil, one hopes. The plan is simply to disrupt the electronic payment industry, just as iTunes disrupted the music business, and the iPhone disrupted the telephone business.
Yes, it’s cool that you’ll be able to tap your brand new Apple Watch on a pad at a point of purchase, and with that simple gesture, buy your groceries. And yes, the transaction will be more secure than a traditional credit card purchase, which is all to the good.
But the real winner in Mr. Cook’s wallet-free future will be Apple, which will collect a transaction fee with every high-tech tap of an Apple Watch or iPhone.
It’s a strategy worthy of Mr. Jobs: an industry disruption, wrapped up in a product service, hidden inside a sleek consumer device.
As the French used to say: the king is dead; long live the king!