Whether you're an enterprise or a consumer, ultimately your big concern in buying technology is "Will it do what I want it to do?" Sometimes components matter, but most people most of the time just want something that works.
Open source inside, but do you care?
I'm going to assume that at some point over the last 20 years you bought a car. So, how important was the car maker's use of just-in-time manufacturing to your purchase decision? I'm going to go out on a limb here and say it was of no consideration at all.
Well, I think we're fast approaching the point where open source to software will be like JIT to automotive manufacturing. While it will critical to the producers of software, woven into the fabric of its operations, it will be of no importance at the point of consumption.
As hard as this might be to accept, open source is not a value proposition in its own right.
As hinted above, this is mostly true. Customers do care about the things that open source offers (lower cost, higher quality, etc.). But they probably don't recognize (or care) that these benefits stem from open source, per se.
Consider the Web. Open-source software provides the fundamental building blocks for nearly all Web services like Facebook, Amazon, etc., not to mention the infrastructure for public and private clouds.
End customers aren't asking for open source on the Web or in the cloud. They're asking for well-managed services that solve their problems. It's the vendors who care, because it allows them to grow highly scalable businesses at a modest cost.
Indeed, many of the customer benefits of open source (i.e., the ability to view, modify, and redistribute code) disappear or get muted on the Web and in the cloud. This hasn't stopped customers from buying into the Web/cloud.
Red Hat may disagree. It's apparently betting that customers care about components in the cloud. Why else would Red Hat Enterprise Linux pricing be much more expensive than Windows on Amazon EC2, despite being much cheaper for on-premises deployments, as IBM's Savio Rodrigues finds?
But I suspect Red Hat will need to change its pricing, as the OS is even more commoditized in the cloud than it has been for on-premises deployments. Both Red Hat and Microsoft will race to the bottom in pricing, with the emphasis being on the applications that run on them.
After all, this is the thing that drives customers' purchasing decisions. Red Hat knows this, which is why it (rightly) makes a big deal of the huge ecosystem of applications that run on RHEL.
In the cloud, even more attention is focused on service that customers use. Open source, in such a world, is essential infrastructure, but it's infrastructure that every vendor shares or will soon share, making the battle all about end-user facing applications, and not about developer-facing open-source components.
This is a very good thing. It means we can get back to focusing on solving customer problems, rather than fetishing and battling over open-source licenses. It's about time.
Editors' note: This is a guest column. See John Mark Walker's bio below.
Quick, what were you doing on December 9, 1999? If you actually remember, then there's a good chance that you're an old-school Linux type. If you don't have any idea, then read on, and you'll discover what you missed.
I'll never forget where I was--at ground zero of the apex of dot-com ridiculousness. While I and all of my co-workers were in the office that day, about the only thing we accomplished was writing 15 gazillion Perl-based variations on the theme of stock tickers that displayed the price of LNUX, updated at regular intervals. Well, that and drinking champagne. Words cannot adequately express what it's like to look around the office and know that everyone in the building is a newly minted millionaire--on paper, at least.
Ten years ago today, shares of LNUX, the Nasdaq symbol for VA Linux Systems, went on sale to the eagerly awaiting public. You may recall that VA Linux Systems was the company that combined Linux, open-source software, and Intel-based hardware. Just six months prior to VA's initial public offering, Red Hat Software had gone public with a very successful IPO.
We were in the middle of the open-source pixie dust revolution, when many flagging companies jumped on the open-source bandwagon in a desperate attempt to recapture past magic. It was this phenomenon that led to the general conflation of the late-1990s open-source boom with the dot-com bubble, and it would be a few years before most industry analysts, pundits, and beat reporters figured out that there was a difference.
But back to IPO day. I strolled into work sometime after 9:30 that morning and was immediately greeted by Pay, my manager, with some astounding news. We all guessed that the day would be significant, but none of us were prepared for the tsunami of blissful, surreal numbness rushing to greet us.
He showed me a sheet of paper faxed that morning from the investment bank's office (truly ground zero on that day), that was copied ad nauseum and shoved into disbelieving faces. I'll never forget what was on it: just a simple table with 2 columns. The column on the left was a list of investors, and the column on the right was the price they bid for our stock. The numbers were astronomical: $320, $250, $200, $300, $290.
Curiously, some investor didn't get the memo and bid a paltry $50. We laughed at that because it was really funny--at the time. A year later, and I would recall that lone investor for an entirely different reason: on December 8, 2000, LNUX closed the day at $8.49.
On IPO day, we could all do the math, and on that day, the math was in our favor. The official IPO price was $30, and most of us owned options on shares with a much lower strike price. We had all won the lottery, hit the jackpot, (insert gambling metaphor here). Or so we thought. What actually happened was, as Don Marti so artfully described it, we had all become players in a game none of us truly understood.
To this day, the VA Linux IPO remains the Nasdaq's most successful, in terms of its first-day gain, but what does that success really mean, in the context of events that have taken place since? At the time, the LNUX IPO was lumped in with the rest of dot-com mania and treated as the poster child for the insanity that gripped the market.
The New York Times summed up that view best with its report on the IPO, "A Tiny Company with Dim Prospects Goes Public with a Bang." (Note: the Times has since changed the headline, but we remember the original.)
You'll be unsurprised to know that we viewed things slightly differently. But as the stock price plummeted, we went from a sign of the audacity of the times to a symbol of wasted effort, a gloomy future, and everything that was wrong with the go-go '90s. We were somehow expected to repent for the misdeeds of others.
It is simply wrong to view VA Linux as a dot-com vehicle or to attach a greater symbolism to its downfall. It was really neither; it was simply the dramatic rise and fall of a company that overreached. It was a real company that made real things and believed very strongly that open source was going to be a major component of IT very soon.
That we executed poorly and paid dearly for it does not diminish the original ideas behind the company. While VA was not profitable after the IPO, it was certainly not because of revenue. In fact, revenue growth was strong, but our unrealistic growth plan--to become Dell in less than two years--did us in. Only the convenience of timing allows VA Linux Systems to be mentioned in the same breath as eToys, Pets.com or Webvan. The revenue of those was rather paltry, in comparison.
To put the VA Linux IPO in its proper context, let's rewind and remember what was going on at the time:
- Red Hat had a great IPO the summer of 1999.
- IBM had jumped into bed with Apache and had started its first big push with Linux.
- Oracle and most other major database players had released native versions for Linux.
- A year earlier, Dan Kusnetzky famously authored the famous IDC report showing explosive Linux growth of 212 percent.
And yet, in spite of these obvious signs of traction and increasing market share with real customer demand, Linux and the rest of the open-source "bandwagon" were treated like Summer of Love refuse that had never really come down from the acid hits.
Every article about Linux included (stupid, irrelevant) questions about whether it would replace Windows 98. There was a widespread belief among industry observers that open source was fueled by the dot-com bubble and would wither away when the bubble burst. Every article referenced a ragged band of hippie programmers who did it out of love or ideology and just wanted to beat the evil empire.
At that time, no one had really figured out what was driving open-source development. It's worth pointing out that we card-carrying members of "the" open-source community played our part in that perception. Who can forget the famous Windows Refund Day? And if you never smelled Richard Stallman or Eric Raymond at a conference, then you clearly missed out.
It was a heady time of uncertainty, doubt, and eternal optimism. A time of green-field bliss, of "Linux without limits," and there was no problem that a few lines of Perl (Practical Extraction and Report Language) couldn't solve. After all, "the geek shall inherit the earth." It must be true; I read it on a T-shirt.
It truly was a time of the almighty individual weaving his magic and changing the world--and if you were lucky, getting paid well for it. We were young and naive, and those of us endowed with Y chromosomes were high on testosterone. We truly believed that we were on the right side of history but were too stupid to realize our own limitations. This was a blessing and a curse.
That unyielding belief in the omnipotence of writing code gave our army the energy to slay dragons we wouldn't have otherwise, but it also gave us the chutzpah to tackle issues that we ultimately could not solve. Case in point: that time when someone who shall remain anonymous tried to rewrite our ERP system from scratch. In Perl. He didn't last very long.
As it turns out, we were right about the open-source thing, but we somehow forgot the other history lesson: the one about how being on the leading edge of something successful doesn't mean you'll enjoy all, most, or indeed, any success. Those who ultimately reaped the benefits of open-source proliferation did so because they were smarter and took a more conservative approach.
The 10th anniversary of Red Hat's IPO passed without much fanfare last summer, probably because its management is too busy running a successful company to really take the time to pause and reflect. VA Linux Systems, meanwhile, was devastated by the tech bust because those start-up companies were a significant percentage or our revenue.
VA Linux Ssytems changed its name in 2001 to VA Software, after jettisoning the hardware business entirely, and it focused on selling licenses for SourceForge Enterprise. And when that didn't work out, it became SourceForge, a collection of Web sites deriving revenue entirely from ad sales. And it has since changed its name again, to Geeknet.
For the veterans of the VA Linux IPO, we're left to ponder what might have been and savor the unreal moments, while deriving some small consolation from the fact that our instincts were right: open source was not a fad; it was just the beginning. It's not going away, and VA Linux was ahead of its time. Small consolation, indeed.
Activists worry about the environmental cost of discarded mobile phones, personal computers, and other technology. Perhaps they should also worry about the swelling graveyard of start-ups and tech titans gone bad.
As Le Monde points out (in French), though businesses fail in all areas of the economy, technology ventures, and especially Web start-ups, prove particularly short-lived.
It's Joseph Schumpeter's creative destruction...in overdrive.
Le Monde suggests three reasons: the speed of innovation/evolution (AOL's walled-garden approach meets Yahoo's open-portal approach), the ability of incumbents to crush nascent competitors (Netscape meets Internet Explorer), and the shortcomings of business models (Skype: only $500 million out of more than 520 million subscribers).
These are good points, but perhaps there's another: technology companies are increasingly disposable because they're so darn cheap to create.
This affects start-ups and incumbents alike. For the latter, perhaps the negligible cost of starting a new company fosters the comparative disposability of such start-ups. As Bernard Dalle, a general partner with Index Ventures in London, notes, start-ups need only rent essential infrastructure like hardware and software, and that rent is dirt cheap.
Ideas that couldn't survive a $5 million to $10 million capital-raising process might well weather a friends-and-family round of $50,000...and expire shortly thereafter when the idea proves barren.
But it's also true of the incumbents: Gulliver-esque Microsofts can fight off most of the Lilliputians, but an increasing array of the pesky imps sprout into adulthood (e.g., Google, Salesforce, Facebook).
Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your market position), this process of creative destruction may well be accelerating, and open source is one of the primary fuels.
The Linux Foundation's Jim Zemlin insists that the pace and price of innovation today requires open source, a communal effort that isn't bogged down by the bureaucracy or cash constraints of any one company. He may be right.
That certainly seems to be one lesson to take from the success of Linux, Firefox, and other open-source projects, particularly those that are community-led, as opposed to company-led. It's hard to compete with a group of self-selected, highly focused developers who can focus on good code, not good financial quarters.
Now that virtually every technology company depends upon and contributes to open-source software, we may well be laying the foundation for even more industry innovation...and corporate bankruptcies.
Guess what? There's nothing we can do about it. Nor is there anything we should do about it, except focus on building long-term customer value rather than short-term start-up goofiness. That's the way to thrive in the fast-evolving world of technology, because it's the one thing that never changes:
Customers pay for value, and companies that consistently deliver real value acquire the most customers.
Tim O'Reilly points toward this in his call for developers to "work on stuff that matters." It's a reminder but also a warning.
Microsoft is still with us because it has delivered an amazing amount of customer value in its 30-plus years. The same is true of IBM, Oracle, SAP, and other industry incumbents.
But it's equally true of relatively new companies like Salesforce, Red Hat, and Google, which have eschewed gimmicky software and flimsy business strategies to give customers tangible, ongoing value. None of these companies sought an early exit through acquisition. None of them were content to build for the quick flip.
So, yes, technology may be a veritable boneyard of failed companies, and essential ingredients like open source may accelerate the demise of start-ups and incumbents alike. But those companies that use such ingredients to deliver above-average customer value are going to endure...and thrive.
Follow me on Twitter @mjasay.
Open source, like digital media, doesn't suck money out of hitherto profitable industries. Instead, the opening up of software and information simply changes where the money gets made.
This is obvious to the Googles of the world. It's probably equally obvious to the Microsofts of the world. The difference is that the latter can see the train coming but is powerless to stop it, and the former is driving the train.
The evidence for this is increasingly clear and is driven by a shift in how content is sold and consumed. The problem is neatly summarized by Google CEO Eric Schmidt in a Wall Street Journal op-ed piece directed at the newspaper industry:
[T]he Internet has broken down the entire news package with articles read individually, reached from a blog or search engine, and abandoned if there is no good reason to hang around once the story is finished. It's what we have come to call internally the atomic unit of consumption.
That newspaper was "the package," but is increasingly too slow and out-of-sync with how people prefer to discover news content. New packaging is rising, including Google News, that will shift who makes money on news content.
Reporters will still get paid. They'll just have a new employer on their payroll check. Maybe it will be Google.
Think about what is happening in music. I could download New Order's "Regret" for free using LimeWire, but I bought it on iTunes because of the "packaging" which makes my experience easy, high-quality, and legal.
Still, the primary drivers are ease and quality.
Such packaging is worth a lot of money--and to an entirely new breed of vendor--as a quick look at Google's latest income statement suggests.
It's happening in software, too, particularly in open-source software. Red Hat is an example of a company that does a great job of turning software license into an ongoing service contract that enterprises buy. It does this by packaging the power of others' development in the form of a subscription, as Red Hat CEO Jim Whitehurst recently highlighted.
But Red Hat is just Open Source 1.5. Open Source 2.0 looks more like Google or IBM. For every dollar Red Hat makes selling subscriptions to use open-source software like Linux and JBoss, both Google and IBM make multiples of that dollar using open-source software to sell something else, something they've packaged in hardware or Web-based services.
The hardware is running open source. The services are based on open source. The money is made in the packaging of open source.
... Read moreThe mobile-computing world is increasingly a two-horse race between Google and Apple, with Apple clearly in the lead but Google Android making up ground quickly. Microsoft and Symbian are also still in the game, but the ultimate winner will be the one that best appeals to consumers or developers.
Or both.
Sexy? Yes. But what about the developers?
This struck home while reading Mark Sigal's analysis of the "inevitability" of Google Android. On his way to dismantling the idea that Google's victory is assured, Sigal stumbles into apparently divergent interest groups:
[U]nlike the PC, where "good enough" was the bar required to seize the market,...for most consumers, their mobile device of choice is a lifestyle decision, a personal, ever-present extension of themselves that is resident in a way that never existed before with the PC--a value proposition that Apple has completely run with on iPhone (and iPod before that).
Fundamentally, though, mobile is a platform play, a game that is largely won by securing the hearts and minds of developers, and for them, the expectation bar is now set pretty high, owing to the success of iPhone across so many domains....
If you're Google (or Microsoft or Symbian), then, who do you target? Developers or consumers?
It's a real question, as while both parties' interests ultimately converge (consumers want developers to make great applications so that those same consumers can pay the developers lots of money), the short-term interests of consumers (sexy product) and developers (ease and richness of development platform) don't necessarily go together.
Motorola RAZR? Sexy product, lame development platform. Windows Mobile? Arguably a solid development platform...with almost zero sex appeal for consumers.
This is why John Carroll is probably right to argue that Microsoft should reinvigorate its mobile strategy with an emphasis on .Net as a powerful way for developers to write powerful mobile applications, it's not going to be enough. Microsoft can port all the business applications it wants for Windows Mobile. It won't matter.
Consumers don't buy business applications. Not until after they've chosen a phone that meets their personal needs, first.
Yes, enterprises do try to dictate corporate standards with Blackberrys and dull Dell PCs heading the list. But in the fast-changing mobile market, you can't hope that consumers will be forced to use your software. You want them to want to do so.
This is why I believe Google has a good chance of taking a serious bite out of Apple, and Symbian and Microsoft do not. Symbian is too difficult an application development platform, as Gartner notes, and Microsoft...is boring.
Not that it needs to be. XBox certainly isn't, and actually helped Microsoft surpass Apple in a recent consumer survey focused on product innovation.
But not in mobile, or even in computers. Apple understands how to create wicked cool products that consumers want, which is why its Mac sales are projected to grow by 26 percent in 2010, right through the recession, and why its iPhone continues to thrive.
But Apple's Achilles heel could well be developers, which are reportedly tiring of Apple's apparently arbitrary application approval and updating process. If Google can continue to help handset manufacturers to achieve the "Wow factor," while simultaneously creating a more open, robust development platform, it just might be able to beat Apple at the game it started.
In other words, the winning mobile vendor will be the one that marries sex appeal for consumers with platform appeal for developers. Google is on course to deliver, but it probably needs to win big with consumers before it makes waves with developers.
For those entrepreneurs looking to make a living from open-source software, Index Ventures general partner Bernard Dallé has some advice: get thee to a cloud strategy.
Bernard Dallé
(Credit: Index Ventures)Why? At a time when enterprises may be less willing to spend on software, they're increasingly interested in spending on the operation of that software through cloud computing, an interest that can be bought...and sold.
The cloud isn't simply a clever way to provide social-networking services, either. As Dallé suggested in a phone interview on Wednesday, cloud computing may well be the best way to monetize enterprise-facing open-source software.
He should know. Index Ventures has been one of the most successful investors in the changing world of software, hitting home runs with MySQL, Skype, and more. So when Dallé says that as much as 70 percent of the investment opportunities they see now are cloud-related, and that this bodes well for open source, it's worth paying attention.
Given that the cloud renders software less visible to end users, I asked Dallé if cloud computing spells the end for open-source businesses. Far from it, he said:
I think it's good news. I don't think open source is going away. It's here to stay. The world is increasingly moving to a hybrid world: a combination of on-premises and cloud computing. We're not going to see a 100 percent cloud world.
If I look at our portfolio, even our "open-source companies" like Pentaho, OpenX, and DimDim are turning to the cloud to monetize their open-source software assets.
Open source provides a convenient on-ramp and off-ramp for customers, helping them evaluate the software at low to no cost and also gives a free (as in cost and as in freedom) exit in case things go wrong. Between that entrance and exit is a ripe opportunity to make a lot of money by delivering value to customers.
Dallé further explained that open source helps vendors reach customers through low-cost distribution, but cloud computing, importantly, makes the open-source software palatable to a class of customer that finds open source too risky, yet has no problem using it when hosted.
If this sounds like a potent mix, it's because it is. It's also a highly efficient, low-cost way to start and build a company. Dallé elaborates:
The other big trend, not related to open source, is cloud-on-cloud: cloud services running on other clouds. It used to be that everyone ran their own data center, but now an increasing number of companies are happily running their services on Amazon EC2 or other public clouds. This dramatically lowers the cost of starting a service, and starting a company around it.
This might raise the concern that we'll see too many open source/cloud companies, not too few. Dallé isn't worried: "The quality of an investment always comes down to the quality of the people involved and their execution."
If Dallé's correct, the right place to look for open-source businesses to flourish is at the nexus of on-premises open-source software and cloud computing. It could prove to be a potent mix. And while the cloud might not be the right delivery platform for some software, it probably does have a high degree of salience for many.
In the past week, the open-source business community appears to have reached consensus: making money from open-source software is a bad model, but making money with open source is golden.
This can't be good for Microsoft.
Microsoft has long maintained that as the open-source industry has matured, it has become more and more like the commercial world it sought to leave behind. Fundamental freedoms of open source, like the right to modify source code, are signed away to secure a support contract with Red Hat or another vendor.
In many ways, Microsoft was right. Unfortunately for the Redmond giant, however, the new consensus should lead to less commercialization of open source, and more commercialization around open source. There's a big difference, and it's one that threatens to seriously undermine Microsoft and every other traditional software vendor.
That is, unless Microsoft responds in kind.
The new consensus
This consensus has been articulated by TechDirt, Redmonk's Stephen O'Grady, GigaOm, and here on The Open Road.
In fact, it's a drum I've been beating for over a year as Tim O'Reilly's wisdom on the topic finally caught up with my 33MHz brain.
There are fundamental, strategic benefits to open source: ease of distribution, friction-less adoption, costs, etc. There are also serious downsides when it comes to selling it: people chafe at paying for something if they can get it, or something similar to it, for free.
Such problems don't plague companies like Google, which distributes open-source software to drive more adoption of its proprietary advertising or SaaS services. Even Red Hat isn't really in the software business: not with its Linux distribution, anyway. It's in the business of providing certification and update services; of managing the complexity of an operating system.
It's a great business, but if you had to choose between Google's sales or Red Hat's, it's a no-brainer.
Microsoft's response
As this lightbulb goes on across the industry, companies like Microsoft, which insist on direct monetization of software, with little in the way of open-source complements to fuel adoption (or simply undermine competitors), are going to struggle. More and more companies will give away Microsoft's core business as open-source complements to their own.
So, here's a suggestion for Microsoft as just one good way to respond: open-source Internet Explorer.
Fight Firefox with fire
Cut Google's Chrome and Chrome OS off at the knees. Undermine Mozilla Firefox's raison d'etre. Give the European Commission a reason to love you.
More importantly, give developers something to embrace and extend. Microsoft has been steadily losing browser market share as Firefox eats into it. In some countries, like Germany, Firefox has even surpassed IE's market share.
Fight fire with fire. IE is still the world's most popular browser. Make it the world's most open browser, too.
Every Microsoft business could benefit from this move. Even if one assumes that Microsoft isn't ready to take the plunge and fully open up the development process around IE, here's some comfort: neither has Google around Chrome. Microsoft can still steer the IE ship, even if it were open source.
Microsoft needs a proactive open-source strategy, rather than the reactive policy it has had to date. Open source is a threat, yes, but it's a threat to everyone, especially as the industry collectively comes to grips with open source as a business enabler, rather than as a product to sell.
If Microsoft wants to win big in the new world of Web-based software, it needs a bold strategy. Open-sourcing IE is the starting point.
Follow me on Twitter @mjasay.
With open-source software businesses, you have two options. Actually, three, but the third belongs to Red Hat, and it applies to roughly no one else.
The first option is to sell support for open-source software. This option is generally advocated by those who have never grown a business beyond $10 million. It's a terrible model unless your only aspiration in life is to run a services company.
Hence, the support model might be good for Accenture or systems integrator, if they want to take on the burden of support, but it's a poor model for Red Hat, MindTouch, Microsoft, or other software company.
The second option is to contribute heavily to open source but not build your revenue model around monetizing that software directly. This is what the New York Times points to in its Sunday expose of allegedly fizzling open-source business models.
Open source can drive adoption like little else. It's not, however, necessarily a great driver of revenue. For that, you need to be selling something beyond the source code, and that "something" is often going to be proprietary, be it hardware, software, or a service.
Proprietary search revenue funds a lot of open-source development at Google.
That's the way successful companies are run: they take ownership of what they ship. They are influenced by but not controlled by the mystical whims of The Community.
Even Red Hat, which piggybacks on a lot of Linux kernel development, increasingly includes more home-grown software in its distribution and takes great pains to certify its Red Hat Enterprise Linux will work in the most demanding environments before putting its brand on the label.
Some, including me, have wrongly concluded that Red Hat's business model would apply to other product markets beyond the operating system. It doesn't. It only applies where the moving parts in the product are complex, multitudinous, and frequently changing.
For everything else, there's Option 1 (if you want a business that doesn't scale well or possibly at all) or Option 2 (which is really no different from the old proprietary model except that it effectively uses open-source complements to lower engineering costs and possibly sales/marketing costs).
Even Option 2 won't work if you under-invest in marketing and development, as Symbian is learning to its hurt. It turns out that there is no free lunch, even in the land of free software. It always takes work. And money. Lots of both, actually.
Twitter and Facebook are duking it out to own the future of the social Web, though users won't have noticed. Indeed, for those who use both, this may come as a surprise, since the two, while both social media platforms, seem to serve very different purposes.
Tell that to Twitter and Facebook, which increasingly have painted big bull's-eyes on each other.
Facebook groks this more than Twitter, which is why your mom/dad, teenage neighbors, and friends all use Facebook, and probably don't use Twitter.
Both companies have open APIs that encourage third-party developers to build out their respective platforms. Facebook has the Open Stream API; Twitter, the ">Open API Service.
These are critical components of a platform strategy, but they're secondary to the lesson that Microsoft and Apple have taught us: if users don't care about the front end of software/services, developers won't care about the back end of the same.
Facebook largely works because people know how and why to use it. Twitter...not so much.
It's telling that Twitter's "big" feature of the last six months is...lists. I use and love Twitter, but after a month I still can't get myself excited about creating or following Twitter lists. I'm not even sure why I'd want to do so.
Is this the best Twitter can do?
This is perhaps why Twitter seems to work for a narrow class of user: Caucasian, middle-aged urbanites with no kids.
In other words, not teens, not your mom/dad, and probably not you.
Facebook's demographics look very different, probably because its current range of uses is very different.
To me, this is a user-interface problem, and not a defect in the DNA of the Twitter platform. It's simply not immediately obvious what one should do with Twitter. That's not the case with Facebook.
We learned this long ago in open source. What separates a good but doomed project from a truly great project is documentation (to help developers know how to use the system) and user interface (to help end users know how to deploy the software). That's why Linux was interesting but not ubiquitous until Red Hat, IBM, and others added the finish that made its power usable by the general business world.
Twitter has a lot of promise, but not yet much polish.
It's nice that New York gangs have found new ways to dis each other using Twitter. It will be better when Twitter makes it easy and obvious for me to talk with my parents using Twitter.
If something seems too good to be true, it probably is. That popular aphorism never seemed truer than today when reading The Wall Street Journal's analysis of Wikipedia's declining volunteer base. Despite countless articles extolling the virtues and seeming omnipotence of "community" over the past several years, the technology industry seems to be settling back into old habits:
Command and control.
It's not that the "wisdom of crowds" idea hasn't influenced the way technology is developed, or how news and information are gathered and distributed. It has.
It's just that the promised sea change has proved to be far less disruptive than we expected.
Take Wikipedia. As the Journal calls out, volunteerism has declined as the ease of contribution has waned. The easy topics are taken. Rules for upping the quality have proliferated. Wikipedia is becoming...corporate.
Nick Carr has been pointing this out for years, but it's only now becoming self-evident. Wikipedia has grown up and, in so doing, is looking more and more like the encyclopedic world it sought to displace.
Nor is it alone. Open-source business models increasingly look like proprietary software models, as the Software Freedom Law Center's Bradley Kuhn suggests.
Even uber successful open-source communities like Joomla have discovered that reliance on volunteers falls short of what a few good paid developers can do.
That's a positive discovery by Joomla. A more worrisome discovery is that Mozilla remains far too dependent on Google to fund development of Firefox. Mozilla has lots of community, right? Yes. As Mozilla CEO John Lilly has said, 40 percent of Firefox's code comes from developers not employed by the foundation.
But that still leaves 60 percent, and virtually all of the core development work, that relies on "company," not "community," which is how much of the world's best open-source software is developed: funded by IBM and other "community" members.
For those who think "community" is a euphemism for "everyone else doing my work for me," think again. It just doesn't work that way.
Of course, companies can go to the opposite extreme, too. Apple, for one, gets beat up for a heavy-handed approach to its App Store approval process. Apple, in other words, doesn't seem to care one iota what "the community" thinks.
But then, this is the same App Store with more than 100,000 applications and 2 billion downloads to date. No wonder Apple isn't apologizing: it's clearly benefiting most people most of the time, or the application developers would take their complaints to a different platform.
But they haven't, and this calls out the problem with deifying "community." It's accepted wisdom that one shouldn't "anger the community," as if it's some unknown god that demands the occasional virgin to be thrown into the volcano. But the truth is, "community" is not really much different from the "customers" and "partners" the industry has sought to satisfy for decades.
So, yes, by all means seek to work with your community of users and partners, but don't expect "the community" to do your work for you. Guess what? "The community" already has a day job, and can't afford to work full-time for you unless you pay it.
All of which leaves us largely where we started. The most successful software companies don't rely on some vague "community" to build their products. Microsoft, Oracle, IBM, Google (Android, anyone?), and even, increasingly, Red Hat (JBoss, KVM, etc.) build great software based on their own, internal plans and expertise and "the community" buys it (or resells/embeds/etc. it).
The big shift, however, has been in the transparency of the feedback loop, which has been a welcome change in the industry. So, to the extent that "community" simply implies a more open way of developing and distributing software, then, yes, it has been significant.
But it hasn't changed the world. It has only changed the way the dominant technology companies...dominate.
