Hasn't Microsoft come a little late to the mobile party?

Microsoft/Nokia deal

News this morning that Microsoft have bought Nokia’s mobile phone unit for £4.6bn is a natural step for the two companies, who have already been working together very closely on smartphones since originally signing a strategic partnership in February 2011. But the question of whether two companies which have both have been accused of falling behind in the smartphone race and resting on their laurels can really regain lost ground, is one that seems too little too late.

The deal, which will see Microsoft license Nokia’s brand to use on its products for a 10-year period, was hailed by Microsoft chief executive, Steve Ballmer, as: "…a bold step into the future — a win-win for employees, shareholders and consumers of both companies… We are excited and honored to be bringing Nokia’s incredible people, technologies and assets into our Microsoft family."

Nokia’s shares rose an incredible 45 per cent on the news and on first glance, it seems like Microsoft have made a canny move in purchasing the second-largest mobile phone maker in the world, who managed to ship 60.9 million units in the second quarter of 2013. However, the truth is that the lion’s share of these sales were feature phones, less powerful than their smartphone brethren, and a shrinking market sector, which actually resulted in Nokia’s sales dropping by 27 per cent from the same quarter in 2012.

But where Microsoft is really hoping to make some waves is with Nokia’s Lumia range of smartphones, which run Microsoft’s Windows Phone 8 operating system and have seen robust growth of 78 per cent year-on-year. In their announcement to the media, Microsoft made a big splash of the fact that the Lumia range was outselling Blackberry smartphones in 34 markets. This seems like a great achievement, but hides the fact that shipments are a country mile behind the likes of Apple’s iPhone and Samsung’s devices running Google’s Android operating system, of which more than 100m were sold in Q2 this year.

With such well developed competitors, it’s going to be a long hard road to fight their way back to the top, especially given the nature of the smartphone market today. It is not just the hardware and the operating system that informs a consumer’s decision on which phone to purchase, it is also the range of apps on offer. Apple and Google’s Android launched their app stores as far back as 2008 and have stolen a march on the Microsoft alternative. By July 2013, both Apple and Google celebrated app downloads in excess of 50 billion.

Microsoft’s Windows Phone Store, on the other hand, has yet to reach such dizzying heights, and this was one of the biggest criticisms of Nokia’s decision to embrace Microsoft’s operating system for its Lumia range. The first product to be launched in November 2011, the Lumia 800, was lauded as a compelling alternative to the duopoly of Apple iOS and Android powered phones, but many critics voiced concerns over the relatively limited range of apps available for the Windows platform. Although the situation has been constantly improving since then, it still lags a long way behind.

To make matters worse, Microsoft has something of an uneven track record as a hardware manufacturer. Traditionally a software developer, it has only had limited exposure in the hardware sector, most recently with the launch of its Surface tablet last year, which has failed to live up to expectations. The company was recently forced to slash the price of the tablet, after writing down $900m because of unsold stock of the Surface RT, more than the $853m it had earned for sales of the device.

Hopefully some of Nokia’s expertise in this area will rub off on the software giant, otherwise things could go from bad to worse in the mobile phone sector for both companies.

Photograph: Getty Images

Mark Brierley is a group editor at Global Trade Media

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I can’t follow Marie Kondo's advice – even an empty Wotsits packet “sparks joy” in me

I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

I have been brooding lately on the Japanese tidying freak Marie Kondo. (I forgot her name so I typed “Japanese tidying freak” into Google, and it was a great help.) The “Japanese” bit is excusable in this context, and explains a bit, as I gather Japan is more on the case with the whole “being tidy” thing than Britain, but still.

Apart from telling us that we need to take an enormous amount of care, to the point where we perform origami when we fold our underpants, which is pretty much where she lost me, she advises us to throw away anything that does not, when you hold it, “spark joy”. Perhaps I have too much joy in my life. I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

After a while I gave up on this because I was getting a bit too happy with all the memories, so then I thought to myself, about her: “This is someone who isn’t getting laid enough,” and then I decided that was a crude and ungallant thought, and besides, who am I to wag the finger? At least if she invites someone to her bedroom no one is going to run screaming from it, as they would if I invited anyone to my boudoir. (Etym: from the French “bouder”, to sulk. How very apt in my case.) Marie Kondo – should bizarre circumstance ever conspire to bring her to the threshold – would run screaming from the Hovel before she’d even alighted the stairs from the front door.

I contemplate my bedroom. As I write, the cleaning lady is in it. To say that I have to spend half an hour cleaning out empty Wotsits packets, and indeed wotnot, before I let her in there should give you some idea of how shameful it has got. And even then I have to pay her to do so.

A girlfriend who used to be referred to often in these pages, though I think the term should be a rather less flippant one than “girlfriend”, managed to get round my natural messiness problem by inventing a game called “keep or chuck”.

She even made up a theme song for it, to the tune from the old Spiderman TV show. She would show me some object, which was not really rubbish, but usually a book (it may not surprise you to learn that it is the piles of books that cause most of the clutter here), and say, “Keep or chuck?” in the manner of a high-speed game show host. At one point I vacillated and so she then pointed at herself and said, “Keep or chuck?” I got the message.

These days the chances of a woman getting into the bedroom are remote. For one thing, you can’t just walk down the street and whistle for one much as one would hail a cab, although my daughter is often baffled by my ability to attract females, and suspects I have some kind of “mind ray”. Well, if I ever did it’s on the blink now, and not only that – right now, I’m not even particularly bothered that it’s on the blink. Because, for another thing, I would frankly not care to inflict myself upon anyone else at the moment.

It was all a bit of a giggle eight years ago, when I was wheeled out of the family home and left to my own devices. Of course, when I say “a bit of a giggle”, I mean “terrifying and miserable”, but I had rather fewer miles on the clock than I do now, and a man can, I think, get away with a little bit more scampish behaviour, and entertain a few more illusions about the future and his own plausibility as a character, when he is squarely in his mid-forties than when he is approaching, at speed, his middle fifties.

Death has rather a lot to do with it, I suppose. I had not actually seen, or touched, a dead body until I saw, and touched, my own father’s a few weeks ago. That’s what turns an abstract into a concrete reality. You finally put that to one side and gird up your loins – and then bloody David Bowie snuffs it, and you find yourself watching the videos for “Blackstar” and “Lazarus” over and over again, and reach the inescapable conclusion that death is not only incredibly unpleasant, it is also remorseless and very much nearer than you think.

And would you, dear reader, want to be involved with anyone who kept thinking along those lines? I mean, even if he learned how to fold his undercrackers into an upright cylinder, like a napkin at a fancy restaurant, before putting them in his drawer? When he doesn’t even have a drawer?

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war