Deflation in the tech industry

Bitcoin fans, take note.

Deflation is bad.

This is not, normally, a controversial thing to say. The idea that low and stable inflation is a good thing is one of the few maxims of economics which is widely held.

Except if you like Bitcoin.

My piece last month looking at how Japan and Bitcoin are both hamstrung by their deflationary economies was meant to highlight the similarity between the two, but it also brought out a difference: whereas Japan is trying to change their economy, Bitcoin fans are trying to change economics.

By far the most common example that they cite is that of the technology sector. That's unsurprising, given people with a lot invested in Bitcoin (both figuratively and literally) tend to be pretty techie. So I'm not being unfair by pointing to Brent McCulloch's comment from last week as typical (I've cleared up the formatting a bit):

Great Article! Your arguments about deflation highlight the exact reason I never buy technology. The whole sector is deflationary!

For example, why would anyone spend their money on an iPad2 now? If they just hold onto their money a bit longer and wait for the iPad3 to come out, the same amount of money will have so much more purchasing power! Why even spend it on that iPad3 at that point, we know the iPad4 is just a year away, right? If they save their money for just 12 more months, for the iPad4, it’ll have so much more effective purchasing power.

This is why no one ever buys technology, their currency is deflating relative to technological products. Don't believe the sales figures from these tech companies, it's all smoke and mirrors I tell you! Smoke and mirrors!

Biting sarcasm.

But the thing is, deflation – or a phenomenon like it – is actually pretty evident in Apple's sales figures. This chart, via Benedict Evans, shows the cyclicality in Apple's sales:

What you're seeing is the company making an ever greater proportion of its sales in the fourth quarter. Not only is that the quarter where the most products are released (the iPad 4 was released in Q4 2012, iPhone 5 one quarter earlier but suffered crippling supply problems until Q4 2012), it's also the one where sales can't be delayed any further. No matter how sure you are that Apple's going to bring out an iPad 5 soon, if you need to buy your dad a present for Christmas, you need to buy it by Christmas.

In other words, the effect of deflation in the market for Apple's products is to bunch all of the sales into the quarter when new products are released and time-sensitive purchases are made.

But there's an even better example of deflation to pick on in the IT industry. In fact, it's one of the most famous business case studies of all time.

In 1981, the Osborne Computer Corporation launched the Osborne 1. It was, by all accounts, a great piece of kit for the time: 64k of RAM, a 5-inch screen and two whole floppy-disk drives, all for just $1,795. What's more, it came packaged in with a collection of software worth almost as much as the entire computer. Sales were fantastic: the company grew from two employees to 3,000 in just a year, and made revenue of $73m.

Then, in early 1983, the "Osborne Executive" was announced. With a 7-inch screen, almost twice the RAM, and even more bundled software, the Osborne 1 was clearly obsolete overnight, and orders fell through the floor. Despite price cuts, unsold inventory piled up, and, by 1983, Osborne declared bankruptcy. The Osborne Executive was never delivered.

That story has come to be known as the Osborne Effect, illustrating to business leaders worldwide the perils of pre-announcing replacements to their own products. But it's also a very literal demonstration of the effects of deflation.

What Osborne announced was a rapid deflation in the cost of an Osborne computer. "Soon," customers were told, "you will be able to get vastly more computer for your money." And customers responded in the only sensible way: they stopped buying Osborne 1s. Starved of cash-flow, the company couldn't even live long enough to release the product which they had touted, and so everyone was worse off.

Deflation does hit the tech sector. Apple may not be going bankrupt as people wait til the iPad 5, but it's losing more and more sales in the early quarters of each year; and other companies have suffered exactly that fate. Bitcoin fans, take note: your favourite counterexample is my favourite example.

Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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The Women's March against Trump matters – but only if we keep fighting

We won’t win the battle for progressive ideas if we don’t battle in the first place.

Arron Banks, UKIP-funder, Brexit cheerleader and Gibraltar-based insurance salesman, took time out from Trump's inauguration to tweet me about my role in tomorrow's Women’s March Conservative values are in the ascendancy worldwide. Thankfully your values are finished. . . good”.

Just what about the idea of women and men marching for human rights causes such ill will? The sense it is somehow cheeky to say we will champion equality whoever is in office in America or around the world. After all, if progressives like me have lost the battle of ideas, what difference does it make whether we are marching, holding meetings or just moaning on the internet?

The only anti-democratic perspective is to argue that when someone has lost the argument they have to stop making one. When political parties lose elections they reflect, they listen, they learn but if they stand for something, they don’t disband. The same is true, now, for the broader context. We should not dismiss the necessity to learn, to listen, to reflect on the rise of Trump – or indeed reflect on the rise of the right in the UK  but reject the idea that we have to take a vow of silence if we want to win power again.

To march is not to ignore the challenges progressives face. It is to start to ask what are we prepared to do about it.

Historically, conservatives have had no such qualms about regrouping and remaining steadfast in the confidence they have something worth saying. In contrast, the left has always been good at absolving itself of the need to renew.

We spend our time seeking the perfect candidates, the perfect policy, the perfect campaign, as a precondition for action. It justifies doing nothing except sitting on the sidelines bemoaning the state of society.

We also seem to think that changing the world should be easier than reality suggests. The backlash we are now seeing against progressive policies was inevitable once we appeared to take these gains for granted and became arrogant and exclusive about the inevitability of our worldview. Our values demand the rebalancing of power, whether economic, social or cultural, and that means challenging those who currently have it. We may believe that a more equal world is one in which more will thrive, but that doesn’t mean those with entrenched privilege will give up their favoured status without a fight or that the public should express perpetual gratitude for our efforts via the ballot box either.  

Amongst the conferences, tweets and general rumblings there seem three schools of thought about what to do next. The first is Marxist  as in Groucho revisionism: to rise again we must water down our principles to accommodate where we believe the centre ground of politics to now be. Tone down our ideals in the hope that by such acquiescence we can eventually win back public support for our brand – if not our purpose. The very essence of a hollow victory.

The second is to stick to our guns and stick our heads in the sand, believing that eventually, when World War Three breaks out, the public will come grovelling back to us. To luxuriate in an unwillingness to see we are losing not just elected offices but the fight for our shared future.

But what if there really was a third way? It's not going to be easy, and it requires more than a hashtag or funny t-shirt. It’s about picking ourselves up, dusting ourselves down and starting to renew our call to arms in a way that makes sense for the modern world.

For the avoidance of doubt, if we march tomorrow and then go home satisfied we have made our point then we may as well not have marched at all. But if we march and continue to organise out of the networks we make, well, then that’s worth a Saturday in the cold. After all, we won’t win the battle of ideas, if we don’t battle.

We do have to change the way we work. We do have to have the courage not to live in our echo chambers alone. To go with respect and humility to debate and discuss the future of our communities and of our country.

And we have to come together to show there is a willingness not to ask a few brave souls to do that on their own. Not just at election times, but every day and in every corner of Britain, no matter how difficult it may feel.

Saturday is one part of that process of finding others willing not just to walk a mile with a placard, but to put in the hard yards to win the argument again for progressive values and vision. Maybe no one will show up. Maybe not many will keep going. But whilst there are folk with faith in each other, and in that alternative future, they’ll find a friend in me ready to work with them and will them on  and then Mr Banks really should be worried.