Looking at reports of the internal conversation that led to the surprise sale of Boston Dynamics
last week, Google seems to be facing up to an increasingly evident
fact: The Google model of old is not nearly as robust as previously
believed. The company, from Nest to Calico to Search itself, seems like
it’s about to get a lot more conservative in its spending.
From a purely economic perspective — that is, leaving aside
any incentive for the pure advancement of mankind, which I’m sure exists
— Google’s premise has always been that the advantages of owning a
market will far outweigh the costs of buying it. You can come to own a
market by literally purchasing all the important parts, but for
Google the more viable option has been to simply make a new market from
scratch. Through technological and social engineering, the strategy is
to both create a product for the world and change the world so it better
fits that product.
As the company sets its sights on ever-more-ambitious ideas
about what it could do with perfect insight into our lives, it’s having
to cast a much wider net in terms of companion projects. If it wants to
know how we live, it’ll need to be in our homes early, and build often —
Nest. If it wants to know everything we do with our computers (nearly
approaching every single keystroke) it’ll need an always-online platform
— Chromebooks. If it wants these and other upcoming services to be
possible, it’ll need a fundamentally better internet infrastructure —
Fiber. It doesn’t want these businesses necessarily, but it wants the
markets they create. Nest is treated like a necessary but burdensome
annoyance, Chromebook manufacturing has been almost entirely offloaded
to other companies, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Alphabet sold some or
all of Fiber once it’s stimulated the market a bit further.
That sort of hardcore interventionism doesn’t come cheap. As
some of these sorts of projects start to mature and others don’t,
Google is getting a harsh lesson in just why mankind didn’t invent the
Google model until well after the invention of the Internet. As
revolutionary as that model has been, it’s also fundamentally rooted in
the freedom allowed by Internet technology. When you want to
revolutionize webmail, and read everyone’s messages, you simply invest a
bunch in storage and release Gmail in near-perpetual beta; when you try
to release a self-driving car according to such a model, things get a
whole lot more complicated.
The simple fact is that when it comes to physical products,
Google’s only successful moves and initiatives have not shot for the
moon, but climbed. They always have a way of making money before
achieving 100% of the ultimate goal. The least successful ventures are
those where, due to either difficulty or bad decision-making, such
half-measures cannot be made profitable.
An
example where it’s due to bad decision-making is the company’s
self-driving car division. Try telling the National Highway Traffic
Safety Administration that the first self-driving cars should be sold before
the moonshot goal of a completely safe self-driving car has been
achieved. Other car manufacturers, like Tesla and BWM, have a chain of
more achievable products moving quickly toward approval. These more
modest technologies apply self-driving tech to some aspects of driving, like freeway driving or parallel parking.
If Google had taken such an approach from the beginning,
their genuine foresight in this area could possibly have gotten their
tech to market before any competitor had the chance to catch up. That
could have allowed an implementation of the Android Gambit against car
manufacturers: Run our software and compete, or bet on your own janky
in-house alternative and get driven from the market. But now, hamstrung
by their decision to lock their product launch to the goal of total safety in a self-driving vehicle, competitors can develop their own solutions at a leisurely pace.
The
point is, through the income, brand loyalty, and bug-finding advantages
of having real products in the real world, it’s possible the car
companies will successfully use their early foothold to scoop Google on
its own idea and beat it to market with a fully self-driving vehicle. If
that happens, it won’t be due to lack of vision or ambition on Google’s
part, but in a sense due to an overabundance of both.
The humanoid robot (“Replicant”) division faced similar problems, but they were far less avoidable. According to Bloomberg’s expose
of the planned sale, it comes back to how the company is spending large
fractions of the overall budget on ideas with no hope of
commercialization for at least 10 years. It is quite simply difficult to
release a real, physical product — what the software world lovingly
calls a patch, real industry calls a “recall.”
Still, Boston Dynamics did have a couple of ideas with real
interested investors. One of their most promising projects, the LS3
heavy-lifting version of BigDog, was recently shelved by the military
due to apparently unfixable design flaws. But realistically, how many
robot pack mules was the company ever really going to be able to sell? A
few thousand?
If Google’s assessment of Boston Dynamics is to be believed, perhaps not even that many.
That’s why I wonder who (but the military) will see a profit potential in Boston Dynamics. If Google X
found it didn’t have the funds and emotional wherewithal to see the
Replicant project through, or to cow the company into meaningfully
changing its approach, then who could possibly hope to succeed in their
place? Amazon’s Jeff Bezos is extremely near-term focused in terms of
large investments, so I’m skeptical of reports that Amazon would be
looking to purchase Boston Dynamics. Amazon uses streamlined,
utilitarian robots designed specifically to interact with their
warehouses, so what use would they have for a pack mule or general
purpose man-bot?
Google isn’t necessarily setting its sights lower when it comes to
robotics, though this move will certainly be read that way by many. It’s
just that Google seems to be developing some doubt about the idea that
the moonshot model is the best way to make it to the moon. The more
realistic, and perhaps even the faster path, is to forecast a chain of
profitable small-scale innovations that collectively lead you in the
direction of your goal.
We’ll know just how far the culture has shifted based on the
currently ongoing projects that have yet to truly show their hand.
Calico comes to immediately mind, though the hush-hush health startup
could still start with a more traditional, Google-y software technology
for all we know. They could easily try to push some sort of Google
Health Reborn as a stable and potentially quite successful software
platform, perhaps getting Calico a source of steady income so it can
self-fund its hardware and wetware ambitions, whatever those may
specifically be.
Some will see this as a sign of Google’s “decline,” but as
mentioned, this doesn’t need to be a lessening of ultimate ambitions,
only proximate ones. For now, DARPA is still the only major research
body in the world that gets to super-not-care about money. Google X
would like to get there, and it may do it someday, but this week’s
announcement shows that the moonshot lab is indeed mortal.
The question is whether this is the extent of the cull, or just the beginning.


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