Wired recently named a new phenomenon the "good-enough revolution." You can see it in the juxtaposition of the iPad and the Flip video camera. When Steve Jobs introduced the iPad (not unlike what he's said with many other over-the-top Apple product introductions), he said that unless a product was "far better" than what already exists in the market, it had "no reason for being."
So people are paying $500 for the entry-level iPad, with US demand so robust that the European introduction has been delayed because of supply shortfalls. But at the other end of the spectrum is the world of Ikea, H&M, and the Flip camera: Making things that are adequate and well-priced. Actually, that's doing them a disservice. They're extremely well suited for purpose. And the purpose is not high-end. Nor is the price.
You bring an Ikea desk or bookshelf home, slap it together, and it just plain works. When it's time to renovate and you're done with it, no big deal. H&M creates disposable fashion for the season: Wear it now, and when the seasons change, toss it away. The Flip camera has one great big red button; it means "record." Although it comes with an instruction manual, it seems perfunctory, a nod in the direction of folks who expect electronics to ship with volumes of documentation (the Flip's "manual" is actually the size of a card deck--if card decks had only 10 cards). What's wrong with any of these business models?
According to much of the world, not a lot.
Does that mean there's no room in the world for the iPad? Scarcely. The MacBook Pro is one of the nicest laptops on the market (think of it as an even higher-end version of the iPad [techies, I'm sorry!--I know the iPad is not a laptop substitute, at least not yet, so hold your emails]) and the 17" screen version costs $2,499 to start. Nicely featured, it's easily over $3,000. And, yes, a drop-dead gorgeous machine. Taiwan's Acer has made a very nice business out of making dirt-cheap, reasonably reliable laptops for under $500. With both Apple and Acer, you know what you're getting.
And that's precisely the point, isn't it?
What has happened to the rest of the market, what might be called the Big Middle?
A few suggestions:
- Department stores;
- A&P, Dell, Sony, General Motors, Sears;
- Time, The Saturday Evening Post, Readers' Digest, Book of the Month Club.
You get the idea.
So far, what I've said is something you could have read about in James Surowiecki's New Yorker column of March 29, Soft in the Middle., albeit with my extrapolations.
But now let's apply it to LawFirm land.
Brand names, including middle-market brand names, used to be able to rely upon their very names for insulation on the pricing front; those names signaled reliability, a guarantee of quality, and no need to investigate further. That may not get you so far any more.
Increasingly, the world appears to be evolving towards a landscape where there are MacBook Pro's and Acer's, but not so many Dells; more Lexuses and BMWs and Corollas and Civics, but fewer Malibus and Ford F-150's; more artisanal cheese and wine, and more Velveeta and Gallo, but less generic cheddar and house chardonnay.
For us, imagine we're entering an age where Cravath, Slaughter & May, Wachtell, and their ilk will prosper inordinately; and demand for firms that optimized their processes at the other end of the spectrum--Littler Mendelsohn, Eversheds, and others--will also thrive.
What does that leave for firms in the middle?
Aaah, you say, but my firm is exempt; it's special. So, in their day, were all the brand names listed in my bullet points above.
Just a thought.
April 25, 2010 5:30 PM
Leave a comment