Return to the Little Kingdom_ Steve Jobs and the Creation of Apple - Michael Moritz [163]
Machines that carried the names of Japanese companies were given the same reception as American computers. Some of the statements that emerged from Cupertino sounded ominously like the confident claims which had once risen into the air of Detroit in the mid-sixties. At one time or another the Japanese were not supposed to understand the microcomputer market, had no experience with complicated electronic consumer items, wouldn’t be able to master software, wouldn’t find any room left on dealers’ shelves, and wouldn’t be able to build an image for their brands. “The Japanese,” Jobs liked to say, “have come flopping up on our shores like dead fish.”
This despite the fact that Apple came to depend on a variety of Japanese companies for a steady supply of semiconductors, monitors, printers, and disk drives. And while Japanese manufacturers like Hitachi, Fujitsu, and NEC designed and made almost every part needed in a personal computer, Apple was little more than an assembler of other people’s work. The long-term challenge was stark: Apple had no alternative but to become the lowest-cost producer in the world and simultaneously offer the most value to its customers if it hoped, in the long run, to beat the Japanese. The extent of the Japanese threat was made clear not in the United States but in Japan, where within three years conditions had changed dramatically. In 1979 Apple and Commodore owned 80 percent of the Japanese market; by 1980 this had slumped to 40 percent and the November 1981 issue of the Japan Economic Journal reported: “The three leading American personal computer makers—Apple Computer, Commodore International and Tandy—have witnessed their combined market share in Japan plunge from 80-90 percent in 1979 to less than 20 percent at present.”
There was, however, one competitor that everyone had expected to enter the microcomputer market once it was large enough to matter. That was the company with three of the most imposing initials in American business: IBM. It was easy to dismiss IBM as an old, lumbering, stuffy, East Coast company that could offer its engineers or programmers neither fame nor fortune and insisted that everyone wear white shirts and striped ties. In 1981 when IBM introduced its personal computer, its revenues were ninety times as large as Apple’s. It made satellites, and robots, memory chips and mainframe computers, minicomputers and typewriters, floppy disk drives and word processors. At the Homebrew Club the Juggernaut of Armonk had always been the butt of jokes and engineers like Wozniak had always been more intrigued by the features of machines made by IBM’s competitors.
Though the company had sold calculators, tabulators, cards, and accounting machines in the twenties, it switched direction after World War II when Remington Rand’s UNIVAC machine was close to becoming