Apple's Hubris Is Hurting Apple Watch

Steve Jobs was probably the boldest, most in-your-face, supremely confident salesman to ever sell anything to anyone. He was the definition of hubris, and his second stint at Apple — necessitated by his earlier, less mature relationship with that very term — underscored this trait in a very public way. And by the dawn of Apple’s mobile era in the early 2000s, Jobs made hubris his [euphemistic female canine], because he could back it up. I’m sure the guy rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, but he believed in — and made you believe in — everything he ever trotted out on stage.

Apple doesn’t have that grandeur any more, at least not in its executive sales force or public relations department. And as Apple Watch is positioned so vehemently as a fashion-first item (subjugating, it often seems, the far more important technology inside), Apple has made the mistake of letting its hubris — no longer supported by its critical and beloved anchor — cloud its presentation of the intention behind the actual product. Fashion is fickle and fleeting, and in not underscoring the actual capabilities of the wearable, Apple planted its newest device firmly in historically unstable ground.

Ever since its unveiling in September 2014, people have justifiably asked “Why?” But even now, in its new batch of “inspiring” and “heartwarming” commercials, Apple has not answered that question to mainstream satisfaction. Apple believes, based on its domineering mobile influence and general juggernaut clout in the industry, that Apple Watch will effectively sell itself. To some degree, it is. I — like most of our readers and Apple fans in general — dont buy all this “flop” nonsense for a second, and I think Apple will be quite pleased to sell 10 million or so units this year. But it’s not this year that matters.

There are some clouds on the horizon, and the risk Apple faces with long-term public reception of its smartwatch is very real.

Because the very reality is this: The faith of early adopters isn’t enough to move a product in a vacuum of demonstrated utility.

Obviously, that utility will get clearer later this year with the launch of watchOS 2, but right now, Apple has a serious PR problem on its hands, and it’s one unlike any other the company’s faced this century. While I doubt it’s affecting sales right now, if Apple doesn’t work hard and fast to address the Big Picture ASAP, the media’s daily “flop” headlines are going to stigmatize Apple Watch to the point where potential buyers pass en masse. And that’s an inescapable problem with the fashion angle in general: A stigmatized fashion product cannot survive. Nobody likes to be the fool whose money has just parted. Nobody likes to be a sucker.

Apple, of course, should have — and probably did — see this coming. After all, they announced before launch that first-quarter sales figures would not be published, indicating the expectation of slow growth at the outset. But instead of filling videos with nonsense and pretty music (or Jony Ive’s painfully slow, scripted, falsely-emotive, accented narration), Apple should have simply told the world — from day one — exactly what it expected from Apple Watch and precisely how they expected the wearable to perform. Customers (and, perhaps more importantly, the press) should have been made privy about the grand plan from the outset. But even barring that back then, we should all have at least been made privy about Apple’s plan by now.

Instead, Apple’s keeping quiet, and that does two things, both very bad (if patently illusory):

First, it allows an in for the press — and Apple’s competition — to paint Apple Watch in a very negative light, which those entities are more than happy and willing and able to do. This sort of reportage and platform comparison appeals to Apple’s common audience, and when all anyone hears about is “epic fail” or “this brand does it better,” they tend to believe it. Then, they stop thinking about the failed product and move on to those “better” ideas.

Second, Apple’s silence gives fans and critics alike the distinct impression that Apple itself doesn’t know what its own product is actually for. Because of this, many folks view Apple Watch as a vanity project for Ive and his team. While I’m not all in on that, there are certain aspects to the wearable which I feel lean heavily towards that characterization. Other folks, less in tune with the people behind the company, simply view Apple Watch as a product that doesn’t need to exist except to play catch-up. The iPhone wasn’t the first touchscreen smartphone, but nobody saw it as a “me too” product. Ditto for iPad. With Apple Watch, however, the wearables space — including non-smartwatch fitness monitors — was already pretty well-known and well-saturated. Without demonstrations of distinct Apple Watch superiority out of Cupertino, Apple Watch runs the risk of being slapped with the luxury- and interest-obliterating “me too” label.

Today, Apple Watch is — in the mainstream mind — a product predicated on a haughty sense of “too big to fail.” That’s the hubris. Apple’s shown how elegant and beautiful the thing is, how advanced the manufacture of its metallurgy is, how it looks very much like an Apple Watch ought to look. But we’ve only been told — without any solid evidence — about how groundbreaking its internals are, how revolutionary its new communication capabilities are, and how “gamechanging” it fundamentally is. Apple’s proven its mettle in the temporary fashion department, but it’s neglected to sell the device in a more permanent manner like the company’s late CEO would have.

Jony Ive (and/or Marc Newson) designed Apple Watch. Tim Cook green-lighted the project. But neither of them have sold the public on a single aspect of the product in technical telecom terms. They all have that almost-Steve Jobs hubris, but they can’t back it up. They can’t convince the world like their mentor always did.

Hubris is hurting Apple Watch.

A little humility might help it.