[As
always, I preface any discussion of Amazon and Apple by noting that I
own some stock in both companies, and that I worked at Amazon from 1997
to 2004]
A lot of folks, especially Apple supporters, like to
characterize Amazon as irrational, even crazy, for its willingness to
live with low margins. It must be frustrating to compete with a company
like that. But to call their strategy irrational or to believe they want
to be a non-profit is a dangerous misreading of what they're all about.
It's
been years since I worked there, so this is largely speculation on my
part, but I believe Amazon is anything but irrational when it comes to
how they think about margins. I believe it's a calculated strategy on
their part, and anyone competing with them had best understand it.
As
with people, I think companies can be more comfortable playing certain
styles, much like certain players are more suited for a particular style
of offense, like Mike D'Antoni's in the NBA or Chip Kelly's in
football. Amazon's low margin strategy is one they are comfortable with
because it sprung from the company's very origin. Amazon began in the
bookselling business, and some of its earliest and most crucial
advantages against incumbents like Barnes and Noble were best expressed
with thinner margins.
One of online retail's main advantage was,
of course, being able to forego expensive physical storefronts. With one
and then two distribution centers total in the early years, Amazon
essentially just had two "storefronts" to stock with book SKU's, whereas
Barnes and Noble had to guess how to allocate SKU's across hundreds of
stores all over the country, all necessitating long leases. A few Amazon
editors could recommend books to all Amazon customers, whereas Barnes
and Noble had to staff each of their individual stores with sales
clerks.
More importantly, Amazon's inventory flow was drastically
more efficient than that of Barnes and Noble. Amazon didn't have to
carry inventory on really slow-selling SKU's, they could wait until a
customer had ordered it and then drop-ship it from the distributor. If
Amazon wanted to ship one of those SKU's themselves, customers generally
had the patience to wait longer for them since those slow-turning SKU's
didn't earn shelf space at the local Barnes and Noble anyway.
Almost
all customers paid by credit card, so Amazon would receive payment in a
day. But they didn't pay the average distributor or publisher for 90
days for books they purchased. This gave Amazon a magical financial
quality called a negative operating cycle. With every book sale, Amazon
got cash it could hang on to for up weeks on end (in practice it wasn't
actually 89 days of float since Amazon did purchase some high velocity
selling books ahead of time). The more Amazon grew, the more cash it
banked. Amazon was turning its inventory 30, 40 times a year, whereas
companies like Barnes and Noble were sweating to turn their inventory
twice a year. Most people just look at a company's margins and judge the
quality of the business model based on that, but the cash flow
characteristics of the business can make one company a far more valuable
company than another with the exact same operating margin. Amazon could
have had a margin of zero and still made money.
At Amazon
we were ruthlessly focused on squeezing efficiency out of every part of
the business, especially the variable ones that affected every purchase.
How could we get a book from the shelf into the hands of the customer
more cheaply? How could we reduce the number of customer contacts per
order for our customer service team? Could we offload some human
customer service contact to cheaper online self-service methods while
improving customer satisfaction? How could we negotiate steeper
discounts on the books themselves? For each book SKU, was it more
economical to purchase ahead of sales in bulk for steeper discounts and
faster shipping or to purchase only when a customer placed an order and
risk a longer delay in shipping? How could we allocate inventory among
our distribution centers to increase the likelihood that all items in an
order shipped from the same distribution center, minimizing our
shipping costs? How could we organize all the Amazon shipments ready for
delivery in a way that made lives easier on our shipping partners like
the USPS and UPS, and then how could we use that to negotiate cheaper
shipping rates? Did we need so many human editors reviewing books, or
were customer reviews sufficient?
The type of operational
efficiency Amazon rose to in those days is not something another company
can duplicate overnight. It came on top of the inherent cost advantages
of online commerce over physical commerce. So much of Amazon's
competitive advantage in those days came from operational efficiency.
You can choose to leverage that strength in two ways. One is you match
your competitor on pricing and just earn higher margins. But the other,
the way Amazon has always tended to favor, is to lower prices, to thin
the oxygen for your competitors.
If you have bigger lungs than
your competitor, all things being equal, force them to compete in a
contest where oxygen is the crucial limiter. If your opponent can't
swim, you make them compete in water. If they dislike the cold, set the
contest in the winter, on a tundra. You can romanticize all of this by
quoting Sun Tzu, but it's just common sense.
I worked on the
launch of the Amazon Video store, Amazon's third product after books and
music. At the time of the launch, DVDs had just launched as a product
category a short while earlier, so the store carried both VHS tapes and
DVDs. The day Amazon launched its video store, the top DVD store on the
web at the time, I think it was DVD Empire, lowered its prices across
the board, raising its average discount from 30% off to 50% off DVDs.
This
forced our hand immediately. Selling DVDs at 50% off would mean selling
those titles at a loss. We had planned to match their 30% discount, and
now we were being out-priced by the market leader on our first day of
operation, and just before the heart of the holiday sales season to boot
(it was November, 1998).
We convened a quick emergency huddle,
but it didn't take long to come to a decision. We'd match the 50% off.
We had to. Our leading opponent had challenged us to a game of who can
hold your breath longer. We were confident in our lung capacity. They
only sold DVDs whereas we had the security of a giant books and music
business buttressing our revenues.
After a few weeks, DVD Empire
blinked. They had to. Sometime later, I can't remember how long it was,
DVD Empire rebranded, tried expanding to sell adult DVDs, then went out
of business. There were other DVD-only retailers online at the time, but
none from that period survived. I doubt any online retailer selling
only DVDs still exists.
Attacking the market with a low margin
strategy has other benefits, though, ones often overlooked or
undervalued. For one thing, it strongly deters others from entering your
market. Study disruption in most businesses and it almost always comes
from the low end. Some competitor grabs a foothold on the bottom rung of
the ladder and pulls itself upstream. But if you're already sitting on
that lowest rung as the incumbent, it's tough for a disruptor to cling
to anything to gain traction.
An incumbent with high margins,
especially in technology, is like a deer that wears a bullseye on its
flank. Assuming a company doesn't have a monopoly, its high margin
structure screams for a competitor to come in and compete on price, if
nothing else, and it also hints at potential complacency. If the company
is public, how willing will they be to lower their own margins and take
a beating on their public valuation?
Because technology, both
hardware and software, tends to operate on an annual update cycle, every
year you have to worry about a competitor leapfrogging you in that
cycle. One mistake and you can see a huge shift in customers to a
competitor.
Not having to sweat a constant onslaught of new
competitors is really underrated. You can allocate your best employees
to explore new lines of business, you can count on a consistent flow of
cash from your more mature product or service lines, and you can focus
your management team on offense. In contrast, most technology companies
live in constant fear that they'll be disrupted with every product or
service refresh. The slightest misstep can turn a stock market darling
into a company struggling for its very existence.
Amazon's core
retail business is, I'd argue, still very secure. I can't think of a
tech retail competitor that is a legitimate threat to Amazon in selling
most physical goods. Where Amazon is most vulnerable in retail is those
areas where the game shifted on them, and that's in the media lines
where physical books, CDs, and DVDs are being digitized. Since no
physical product must be transported through a distribution system,
Amazon's operational efficiency advantages there are less effective
against competition. But in the arena of buying something online and
having a box delivered to your doorstep, who really scares Amazon?
Another
advantage to low margin models is increased customer loyalty. Most of
the products Amazon sells are commodity items. It's not like buying one
brand of car versus another, where you a variety of subjective
judgements affect the consumer's choice. The Avengers Blu-ray disc you
buy from Amazon is the same one you'll find at Wal-Mart or Best Buy. In
that world, the lowest price tends to win. In the early years, Amazon
routinely lowered either product pricing or shipping pricing. Very few
companies lower their prices permanently as time goes by except on
depreciating goods, like computers whose value decreases as newer,
faster models hit the market.
If you're the low-cost leader,
customers will forgive a lot of sins. That margin of error, like the
competitive moat, buys you peace of mind. I could spend time
price-shopping every item on Amazon, but these days, I don't really
bother. Amazon's website design is not going to win any design awards,
it's a bit of a Frankensteinian assemblage thanks to distributed design
decisions, but it's fast, the shipping is cheap or free, the customer
service is fantastic, and oh, did I mention, their prices are great!
There is value in being the site of first and last resort for customers.
If
you want to jump into competition with Amazon, you can't just match
Amazon, you have to leapfrog them. But they've left almost no price
umbrella for you to sneak under, so you have to both match them in price
and then blow them away on the user experience side to even get
customers to think about switching. Who has the capital and wherewithal
to play that exceedingly unpleasant, unprofitable game? You can only win
that game at scale, and Amazon already achieved it.
Smart
companies compete first by playing to their strengths, but Amazon also
cleaves to a low margin strategy, I believe, because it's demonstrated
the advantages noted above. Amazon could try to build a high margin
tablet to compete with Apple, but why would they? How have companies
that have tried to challenge Apple with design and build quality fared
these past few years? Why would you try to challenge Apple in the areas
it is strongest at?
In a recent interview, Reed Hastings
claimed
Amazon was spending $1 billion a year on licensing streaming video for
Amazon Instant Video. Hastings is negotiating for much of the same
content, I know he knows what that content costs, and since I used to
work at Hulu, I can vouch for how easy it would be to burn through a
billion dollars building up a substantial streaming video library. I do
think Amazon may have overpaid as a consequence of wanting to come in
strong and make a big play without as much pricing information as
Netflix and Hulu have accumulated over the years, but it strikes me as a
classic tactic out of the Amazon low end disruption playbook.
[In
this world of digital video, this strategy is much more difficult to
execute because there is no fixed price on licensing episodes of TV
shows and libraries of movies. The information asymmetry works in favor
of the content providers. Netflix had a great advantage when First Sale
Doctrine permitted them to buy DVDs at the same wholesale price as any
retailer since it capped their costs. But in the TV/movie licensing
world, the content owner can constantly adjust their price to squeeze
almost every last drop of margin from the distributor as you can't find
perfect substitutes for the goods being offered. Ask TV networks if they
make any money licensing NFL, NBA, and MLB games for broadcast. Hint:
the answer is no. Ask companies like Apple and Spotify if they're making
healthy margins selling digital music. Ask Netflix or Amazon if
licensing TV shows and movies for digital streaming is more or less
profitable than the days of selling or renting physical media. In the
digital world, transfer pricing can be even more of a cruel mistress.
Most
companies building profitable ecosystems in the digital world are
making their profits elsewhere using the digital media as a loss leader.
Apple on its hardware, for example, or TV networks trying to use sports
contests to cross-promote their other TV programs.]
Apple took
some grief last quarter for seeing some margin depression, but in and of
itself, I don't see that as a bad sign. In fact, I was disappointed
that Apple didn't price the iPad Mini lower out of the gate. Of course,
they're largely sold out through the holidays, so pricing it lower means
leaving money on the table in the conventional microeconomic analysis.
But
in the long run, if you look at every iPad purchaser as a new
subscriber to the Apple ecosystem of hardware and software services,
there's value in fighting for every additional user versus Google or
Amazon in the low end tablet market. Most customers who buy a low end
tablet will stay in that producer's ecosystem for a while, at least a
year. Graph the low end market and you see it trending towards zero, to
that day when an Amazon or a Google will likely offer you a low end
tablet for free, perhaps as part of your Amazon Prime subscription or if
you agree to pay for Google Drive.
That's a world in which the
switching costs are set by the software ecosystem of each of those
companies, not the hardware. It's why Apple lovers are right to fret
about iCloud and its underwhelming mail, storage, and calendaring
services and substandard reliability, why Amazon might spend a billion
dollars licensing videos, why Google tried so hard to switch people over
to Google+. They're all looking for a path to software lockin, a more
defensible moat.
Apple still is the margin king among those
competitors in the mobile phone and tablet spaces in which they compete.
But if they decided to start using their low-end priced SKU's in mobile
phones and tablets to press down on Google and Amazon, and if their
margins declined as a result, I, as a shareholder, wouldn't necessarily
find that to be a negative. I would love to find the sales mix data on
their different SKU's in the iPhone and iPad verticals, though I have
yet to see that data shared publicly anywhere. The shape of that curve
will tell us a lot about where those markets are in their lifecycle, but
Apple has some control over their shape as well.
Some might say
that Apple doesn't have the right mindset to play low-margin offense,
that it's against their nature. But they've effectively dominated and
wrung every last drop of money from the iPod market using pieces of this
strategy, and they have the operational expertise and vertical
integration to achieve it. In fact,
Apple now turns its inventory more times a year than Amazon, by a healthy margin, a staggering fact.
I
haven't mentioned Google much, but like Amazon they will continue to
attack Apple at the low end with their strategy of subsidizing
businesses with their core ad revenue. For the forseeable future, Apple
will have these two giants snatching at their feet. It's a high
pressure, high stakes game. Wouldn't it be nice to trade some margin for
higher castle walls, just for peace of mind?
Most people don't appreciate them, but low margins have their own particular brand of beauty.