My wife bought an iPhone 3G on Friday morning. To do so, she had to have a friend sweet-talk her way into cutting a long line at our local AT&T store. My wife then took home a partially activated phone and, like everyone else, waited hours to get it to work.
Much has been written about the botched iPhone activation process surrounding the 3G/2.0 launch this weekend. But the entire experience of buying an iPhone is bordering on broken.
Apple generates extreme amounts of hype for its products, and the gotta-have-it nature of its launches creates untenable demand curves. This leads to a scarcity effect that, for Apple, has been hugely beneficial in its promotional efforts, and in its bottom line.
How should the user experience of first-day demand be viewed?
To hard-core fans, buying an iPhone is a singular thrill, complete with risk/reward and time/money trade-offs. Scoring an iPhone on Day One gives a person bragging rights, an invaluable perk atop the value of the phone itself.
The millions of iPhone buyers that don't want this experience are stuck waiting until the hype dies down. But despite their disinterest in the crowds and lines, they probably don't want to wait.
The iPhone appeals to Americans' overwhelming desire to be first to experience something. Movies generate nearly half their box-office sales the first weekend; albums' biggest sales come the week of their debuts. (Internet geeks know this feeling all too well.) This now applies to, of all things, a cellular phone, as I myself experienced last summer. (Full disclosure: despite my continued criticism of iPhone trends, I remain a satisfied iPhone owner who bought his phone on Day Two last summer.)
But scarcity and "firstness" can combine in ugly ways. To wit, my wife's friend cutting a long line to get a coveted phone within hours of its release, a scenario which no doubt occurred elsewhere. This leads to even greater frustration for those waiting on line, and whose firstness is being usurped.
Layer onto this the technical problems Apple experienced. How does it feel to purchase a brand new, unusable phone? To be forced to open a sleek device and remove its SIM card just to make phone calls on an old phone? For some the first-day difficulty dissolves into the background as the satisfation of the iPhone UX takes hold, but for others the memory, and dissatisfaction, remains.
And don't forget the basics. AT&T has not worked out a system for transferring SIM card data into an iPhone, so lengthy address books are obliterated, requiring immediate data entry. And the iTunes paradigm creates multiple payment paths: to AT&T for phone services and to Apple for everything else. Perhaps it has to be this way, but it's an ungainly system for users who want to analyze their usage patterns and costs.
This is not to say that the iPhone isn't a masterful device (it is) or that Apple could have done much differently (besides staggering the 2.0 software rollout, not really). It's simply an observation of the sociological effects of consumer demand, and the potential drawbacks of immersing oneself in said demand.
Remember, when all is said and done, it's just a phone.
Much has been written about the botched iPhone activation process surrounding the 3G/2.0 launch this weekend. But the entire experience of buying an iPhone is bordering on broken.
Apple generates extreme amounts of hype for its products, and the gotta-have-it nature of its launches creates untenable demand curves. This leads to a scarcity effect that, for Apple, has been hugely beneficial in its promotional efforts, and in its bottom line.
How should the user experience of first-day demand be viewed?
To hard-core fans, buying an iPhone is a singular thrill, complete with risk/reward and time/money trade-offs. Scoring an iPhone on Day One gives a person bragging rights, an invaluable perk atop the value of the phone itself.
The millions of iPhone buyers that don't want this experience are stuck waiting until the hype dies down. But despite their disinterest in the crowds and lines, they probably don't want to wait.
The iPhone appeals to Americans' overwhelming desire to be first to experience something. Movies generate nearly half their box-office sales the first weekend; albums' biggest sales come the week of their debuts. (Internet geeks know this feeling all too well.) This now applies to, of all things, a cellular phone, as I myself experienced last summer. (Full disclosure: despite my continued criticism of iPhone trends, I remain a satisfied iPhone owner who bought his phone on Day Two last summer.)
But scarcity and "firstness" can combine in ugly ways. To wit, my wife's friend cutting a long line to get a coveted phone within hours of its release, a scenario which no doubt occurred elsewhere. This leads to even greater frustration for those waiting on line, and whose firstness is being usurped.
Layer onto this the technical problems Apple experienced. How does it feel to purchase a brand new, unusable phone? To be forced to open a sleek device and remove its SIM card just to make phone calls on an old phone? For some the first-day difficulty dissolves into the background as the satisfation of the iPhone UX takes hold, but for others the memory, and dissatisfaction, remains.
And don't forget the basics. AT&T has not worked out a system for transferring SIM card data into an iPhone, so lengthy address books are obliterated, requiring immediate data entry. And the iTunes paradigm creates multiple payment paths: to AT&T for phone services and to Apple for everything else. Perhaps it has to be this way, but it's an ungainly system for users who want to analyze their usage patterns and costs.
This is not to say that the iPhone isn't a masterful device (it is) or that Apple could have done much differently (besides staggering the 2.0 software rollout, not really). It's simply an observation of the sociological effects of consumer demand, and the potential drawbacks of immersing oneself in said demand.
Remember, when all is said and done, it's just a phone.
