Apple must again choose between good and evil

So will it recall the faulty iPhone 4?

It's Google that has the company tagline "Don't be evil", one that it has found harder and harder to stick to as it's gone from underdog to an advertising-driven search behemoth. But it is Apple that is now grappling with the conflict between profit, or keeping its fervent customers happy.

After Apple launched the iPhone 4, a fault came to light involving the placement of its antenna. Scores of users complained of experiencing poor reception, or reception that cuts in and out intermittently. To which Apple replied with a statement in which it simply argued that people were holding the gadget wrong:

Gripping any phone will result in some attenuation of its antenna performance with certain places being worse than others depending on the placement of the antennas. This is a fact of life for every wireless phone. If you ever experience this on your Phone 4, avoid gripping it in the lower left corner in a way that covers both sides of the black strip in the metal band, or simply use one of many available cases.

Perhaps not surprisingly, that wasn't enough to satisfy many of Apple's customers, and the grumbling on user forums and in the media gathered steam.

Apple again responded, this time with a little more detail about a fault with signal strength, but not a lot less arrogance: while admitting it had made a simple mistake in the way the phone displays signal strength, thereby giving false readings to users, it still had the gall to start the letter like so:

The iPhone 4 has been the most successful product launch in Apple's history. It has been judged by reviewers around the world to be the best smart phone ever, and users have told us that they love it. So we were surprised when we read reports of reception problems, and we immediately began investigating them.

That investigation left Apple "stunned" when it discovered it had got its signal strength formula wrong. To fix this, it said it would adopt AT&T's recommended formula for calculating how many bars to display for a given signal. That it was using its own (totally wrong) formula in the first place is just classic Apple: it thought it knew better.

Incredibly, it also said it would be making "[signal strength] bars 1, 2 and 3 a bit taller so they will be easier to see". In other words, they still couldn't do anything about the faulty antenna problem and they couldn't improve signal strength, but they could sure as hell make very weak signals look that bit more healthy by making the bars bigger. Strike two for evil?

But the complaints about the antenna issue continued to flood in, and the matter came to a head when the influential US consumer watchdog Consumer Reports issued a statement on Monday saying it could no longer recommend the iPhone 4 because of the antenna problem.

Given the huge influence that Consumer Reports has, it seems Apple may now have to act. It's reported to be holding a press conference later today in which it says it will be discussing the iPhone 4, and presumably the antenna problems. We'll bring you news as we have it.

Meanwhile analysts believe Apple now has three options open to it regarding the fault: give out free "bumper cases", which keep fingers further from the antenna and seem to alleviate the problem; do a full product recall and fix the fault; or simply do nothing.

Giving out the bumper cases will cost it a few million dollars, which is small change to the firm. But it would be an embarrassment to admit that its shiny new gizmo works effectively only when clothed in a strip of black silicone. A full recall will cost at least $1bn, according to analysts, and even more embarrassment. Yet perhaps it would at least avoid its reputation being tarnished any more than it already has been.

Then, of course, there's the "do nothing" scenario, which is perhaps the most likely. I've been saying for some time that Apple has been becoming increasingly complacent about customer service and fixing product faults, though its army of loyal fans won't hear a bad word said about the firm.

Consumers have been left to turn to the courts over faulty MacBook power supplies. A man was alleged to have been offered a full refund on an exploding iPod on condition he sign a confidentiality agreement. Apple's own user forum has hundreds of complaints about the way its third-generation Shuffle MP3 player, which is marketed as ideal for people hitting the gym, develops a fault when exposed to even a small amount of sweat.

Most technology companies have occasional issues with product bugs and faults: they're pushing the boundaries of what's possible with the latest components, and even rigorous testing prior to release is not foolproof. But it is how companies respond to such faults when they are discovered that should be the barometer of the company's professionalism, decency and -- let's face it -- respect for its own customers.

Whatever Apple announces later today about the iPhone 4, what many have come to realise about the company is what I have been saying for some time: it is really not deserving of the ardent loyalty of this army of Apple fans. Apple would surely still be telling users to hold the device differently or to buy their own bumper case if Consumer Reports had not come out to back up disgruntled punters.

 

UPDATE: At its press conference at 6pm BST on Friday as we went to press, Apple CEO Steve Jobs announced free bumper cases for any iPhone 4 buyers, and if they have already bought a bumper case, a refund.

Jobs also argued that it isn't just Apple's smartphone that suffers from such problems, taking the opportunity to sling a bit of mud at HTC, RIM (Blackberry) and Samsung phones. More arrogance? In other words, it's not us, it's smartphones in general. In which case, why the free cases to reduce the patchy antenna coverage?

Meanwhile a recall looks to have been ruled out of the question. RIM's chief executives have already reacted strongly, saying:

Apple's attempt to draw RIM into Apple's self-made debacle is unacceptable. Apple's claims about RIM products appear to be deliberate attempts to distort the public's understanding of an antenna design issue and to deflect attention from Apple's difficult situation. RIM is a global leader in antenna design and has been successfully designing industry-leading wireless data products with efficient and effective radio performance for over 20 years. During that time, RIM has avoided designs like the one Apple used in the iPhone 4 and instead has used innovative designs which reduce the risk for dropped calls, especially in areas of lower coverage. One thing is for certain, RIM's customers don't need to use a case for their BlackBerry smartphone to maintain proper connectivity. Apple clearly made certain design decisions and it should take responsibility for these decisions rather than trying to draw RIM and others into a situation that relates specifically to Apple.

 

Jason Stamper is NS technology correspondent and editor of Computer Business Review.

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Jason Stamper is editor of Computer Business Review

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What kind of Christian is Theresa May?

And why aren’t we questioning the vicar’s daughter on how her faith influences her politics?

“It is part of me. It is part of who I am and therefore how I approach things,” Theresa May told Kirsty Young when asked about her faith on BBC Radio 4’s Desert Island Discs in November 2014. “I think it’s right that we don’t sort of flaunt these things here in British politics but it is a part of me, it’s there, and it obviously helps to frame my thinking.”

The daughter of a Church of England vicar, Rev. Hubert Brasier, May grew up an active Christian in Oxfordshire. She was so involved in parish life that she even taught some Sunday school classes. She goes on in the Desert Island Discs interview to choose the hymn When I Survey the Wondrous Cross sung by a chapel congregation, and recalls being alone in church with her parents, kneeling and singing together.

Despite her intense attachment to local CofE life, Theresa May’s role as a Christian in politics is defined more by her unwillingness to “flaunt” (in her words) her faith.

Perhaps this is partly why, as a Christian, May avoided the scrutiny directed at Lib Dem leader and evangelical Christian Tim Farron over the past week of his stance on homosexuality and abortion.

As Farron wriggled – first saying he didn’t want to make “theological pronouncements” on whether or not being gay is a sin (and then, days later, announcing that it isn’t) – May’s critics scratched their heads about why her voting record on such matters isn’t in the media spotlight.

She has a socially conservative voting record when it comes to such subjects. As the journalist and activist Owen Jones points out, she has voted against equalising the age of consent, repealing Section 28, and gay adoption (twice).

Although her more recent record on gay rights is slightly better than Farron’s – she voted in favour of same-sex marriage throughout the process, and while Farron voted against the Equality Act Sexual Orientation Regulations in 2007 (the legislation obliging bed and breakfast owners and wedding cake makers, etc, not to discriminate against gay people), May simply didn’t attend.

May has also voted for the ban on sex-selective abortions, for reducing the abortion limit to 20 weeks, abstained on three-parent babies, and against legalising assisted suicide.

“Looking at how she’s voted, it’s a slightly socially conservative position,” says Nick Spencer, Research Director of the religion and society think tank Theos. “That matches with her generally slightly more economically conservative, or non-liberal, position. But she’s not taking those views off pages of scripture or a theology textbook. What her Christianity does is orient her just slightly away from economic and social liberalism.”

Spencer has analysed how May’s faith affects her politics in his book called The Mighty and the Almighty: How Political Leaders Do God, published over Easter this year. He found that her brand of Christianity underpinned “the sense of mutual rights and responsibilities, and exercising those responsibilities through practical service”.

May’s father was an Anglo-Catholic, and Spencer points out that this tradition has roots in the Christian socialist tradition in the early 20th century. A world away from the late Victorian Methodism that fellow Christian Margaret Thatcher was raised with. “That brought with it a package of independence, hard work, probity, and economic prudence. They’re the values you’d get from a good old Gladstonian Liberal. Very different from May.”

Spencer believes May’s faith focuses her on a spirit of citizenship and communitarian values – in contrast to Thatcher proselytising the virtues of individualism during her premiership.

Cradle Christian

A big difference between May and Farron’s Christianity is that May is neither a convert nor an evangelical.

“She’s a cradle Christian, it’s deep in her bloodstream,” notes Spencer. “That means you’re very unlikely to find a command-and-control type role there, it’s not as if her faith’s going to point her in a single direction. She’s not a particularly ideological politician – it’s given her a groundwork and foundation on which her politics is built.”

This approach appears to be far more acceptable in the eyes of the public than Farron’s self-described “theological pronouncements”.  May is known to be a very private politician who keeps her personal life, including her ideas about faith, out of the headlines.

“I don’t think she has to show off, or join in, she just does it; she goes to church,” as her former cabinet colleague Cheryl Gillan put it simply to May’s biographer Rosa Prince.

The voters’ view

It’s this kind of Christianity – quiet but present, part of the fabric without imposing itself – that chimes most with British voters.

“In this country, given our history and the nature of the established Church, it's something that people recognise and understand even if they don't do it themselves,” says Katie Harrison, Director of the Faith Research Centre at polling company ComRes. “Whether or not it’s as active as it used to be, lots of people see it as a nice thing to have, and they understand a politician who talks warmly about those things. That’s probably a widely-held view.”

Although church and Sunday school attendance is falling (about 13 per cent say they regularly attend Christian religious services, aside from weddings and funerals), most current surveys of the British population find that about half still identify as Christian. And ComRes polling in January 2017 found that 52 per cent of people think it’s important that UK politicians and policy-makers have a good understanding of religion in the UK.

Perhaps this is why May, when asked by The Sunday Times last year how she makes tough decisions, felt able to mention her Christianity:  “There is something in terms of faith, I am a practising member of the Church of England and so forth, that lies behind what I do.”

“I don’t think we’re likely to react hysterically or with paranoid fear if our politicians start talking about their faith,” reflects Spencer. “What we don’t like is if they start ‘preaching’ about it.”

“Don’t do God”

So if May can speak about her personal faith, why was the nation so squeamish when Tony Blair did the same thing? Notoriously, the former Labour leader spoke so frankly about his religion when Prime Minister that his spin doctor Alastair Campbell warned: “We don’t do God.” Some of Blair’s critics accuse him of being driven to the Iraq war by his faith.

Although Blair’s faith is treated as the “watershed” of British society no longer finding public displays of religion acceptable, Spencer believes Blair’s problem was an unusual one. Like Farron, he was a convert. He famously converted to Catholicism as an adult (and by doing so after his resignation, side-stepped the question of a Catholic Prime Minister). Farron was baptised at 21. The British public is more comfortable with a leader who is culturally Christian than one who came to religion in their adulthood, who are subjected to more scrutiny.

That’s why Gordon Brown, David Cameron and Theresa May can get away with talking about their faith, according to Spencer. “Brown, a much more cultural Presbyterian, used a lot of Biblical language. Cameron talked about it all the time – but he was able to do so because he had a vague, cultural, undogmatic Anglicanism,” he tells me. “And May holds it at arm’s length and talks about being a clergyman’s daughter, in the same way Brown talked about his father’s moral compass.”

This doesn’t stop May’s hard Brexit and non-liberal domestic policy jarring with her Christian values, however. According to Harrison’s polling, Christian voters’ priorities lie in social justice, and tackling poverty at home and overseas – in contrast with the general population’s preoccupations.

Polling from 2015 (pre-Brexit, granted) found that practising Christians stated more concern about social justice (27 per cent) than immigration (14 per cent). When entering No 10, May put herself “squarely at the service of ordinary working-class people”. Perhaps it’s time for her to practise what she preaches.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.

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