Today’s Mint is carrying a report on the future of FM radio as a business, and how differentiation is finally happening under the pressure of competition. Do read it, and also my old post on where the opportunities for differentiation lie.
Airtel EDGE
October 17, 2007Does anybody actually use EDGE on Airtel? If so,
- what do you actually do with it?
- what kind of speed do you get?
- how do you activate it?
Your answers will help me form a decision about whether I should break the habit of four years and buy a high-end phone.
(Specifically, is it feasible to use it to Twitter and blog on WordPress? You know the sort of posts I write, so keep that in mind, please.)
India: Everything to Play For
October 17, 2007All the business newspapers (links: Mint, Business Standard) are shagging over the Lehman Brothers report titled India: Everything to Play For. The report says that India’s GDP can grow at 10% a year for the next ten years, given the right reforms.
I’m about halfway through the report, and I have to say this: it’s awful.
The report reminds me of the draft Strategy term papers we submitted for the midterm review back in first year at IIMB. Our profs then abused each and every group for doing nothing but pulling in factoids and graphs from every analyst report we could lay our hands on, and not doing any analysis or linking of concepts of our own.
This report is very similar. The people who wrote it don’t seem to have met a factoid or a graph they don’t love. They’ve dumped in stuff from Pavan K Varma’s Being Indian, other stuff from the Tarapore Committee report, and even quoted a Hindustan Times real estate supplement. They have done some statistical analysis of their own, but that particular analysis seems to just float in space. It doesn’t serve as either a premise, or a conclusion or an intermediate step.
This has just gone on and on for seventy pages (I have a hundred more to get through). Each page contains a diagram or fact which is very interesting by itself, but there seems to be no actual analysis which shows how that fact or diagram supports the assertion made in the first chapter that the Indian economy can grow beyond 10% on a sustained basis.
There are also appalling non-sequiturs. Like the claim that the growth of the Indian telecom industry is illustrated by Nokia putting up its handset factory near Chennai in only five months. Completing a factory in five months can be taken as evidence of better construction techniques, or project management, or even the virtues of prefabricated sheds. But how does it demonstrate telecom growth? And why talk about Nokia’s factory when you could just show subscriber numbers (actually, they have shown those also. Which just increases my suspicion that they’ve thrown in every factoid they could find.)?
I suspect I’m particularly irritated by this report because I already know most of the factoids they’ve thrown in. Unlike the Percy Mistry report, there are no explosive new and big ideas. Hell, even Goldman Sachs’ BRICs report pointed out that India could push up its GDP growth rate by 2.5% over the existing rate with a set of five key reform measures (can’t recall the exact details now, might update the post with links later). This feeling will probably be shared by everyone who watches the Indian economy regularly. On the other hand, the CEOs and Heads of Strategy who aren’t familiar about the ‘India story’ and who get their fundaes on it from this report will probably go orgasmic over it.
A final point: The report is stored in a section of Lehman’s website called ‘Our Intellectual Capital’. Given how there’s so little original research and so many borrowed factoids in the report, Lehman’s intellectual capital seems to be more debt than equity. The investment banking strategy of high leverage seems to have spread over to their research divisions as well.
The Perils of Rupee Appreciation and Metro Construction
October 13, 2007The rupee hit a new high against the dollar today. The interbank rate was 39.3188 INR/USD when I quoted rates to customers in the morning, and it had gone up by 3 paisa more when I checked the livemint.com news feeds just after lunch.
While the rupee was hitting new highs, the shit was hitting the fan. When importers see news of new highs, they demand to know why their rate is still so high (it remains the interbank rate plus the default margin, but that’s another story). When exporters are quoted the INR rate for their realization payments, they demand to know why the rate is so absurdly low (their rate is also the interbank rate minus the same margin they’ve had for the past year). Meanwhile, exporters who you were trying to convince about the virtues of forwards and options six months ago suddenly panic, land up at office, and demand that their forwards limit be set up by the end of the week. The end result is that both exporters and importers are unhappy about the price of dollars, and react by shooting the messenger who brings them the price. Guess who the messenger is?
Faced with such a situation, the naïve fresh MBA reacts by trying to reassure customers that their margin remains at the wonderfully low levels it has always been, and that the interbank rate is really out of his control. This is a mistake. Customers then demand that their FX margin be reduced, more so if they are Gujew customers. Unfortunately, after ICICI has made a mockery of net interest margins, banks are determined to squeeze every possible rupee out of their FX margins. FX is a new focus area for cross-sell, and 10 paisa is the lowest margin a customer can expect. Confronted with this brutal truth, customers react by shooting the messenger who presents it to them. Guess who the messenger is?
Meanwhile…
…
I feel it is important to point out that The Rembrandts were wankers. “It’s like you’re always stuck in second gear,” indeed. Hah!If you arrive at Trinity Circle at 9:50 a.m., you realize to your horror that the turn from Airport Road to MG Road has been barricaded off. You are then forced to drive ahead instead of turning left, going past the Park, and turning left into Ulsoor Road instead. You then spend the next twenty five minutes stuck on Ulsoor Road (which, incidentally, can’t possibly be more than two kilometers long from Trinity Circle to Dickenson Road). The red light on Dickenson Road, meanwhile, has caused traffic to back up along the length of these entire two (or less) kilometers, and moving on Ulsoor Road is done by shifting between neutral and first gear. Second gear is a distant dream. Meanwhile, you are seriously reconsidering your celebrity crush on RJ Malavika after she plays Christina Aguilera and Justin Timberlake in succession, and then follows up by talking about how excited she is about the Spice Girls reunion. You also mentally abuse your flatmate for refusing to take an apartment in St. John’s Road for the purpose of saving seven thousand rupees of brokerage (this, incidentally, is the same flatmate who feasts at the Oberoi buffet and buys imported breakfast cereal at 300 rupees for 220 grams), and wonder if that apartment is still available, and what the rent on it would be now if it was.
When the light finally clears, you gain all of thirty seconds of movement at faster than ten Kmph before you end up stuck behind a Government of India Ambassador which has chosen that very minute at stall. After ferociously blowing your horn for forty seconds, the Ambassador finally moves. Unfortunately, Rocinante is a Palio, and has a large turning radius. Few things are comparable to a Palio’s turning radius, though the radius of J. Lo’s backside comes close. It takes another fifteen seconds before you have space to overtake. Once you have overtaken, and are back in the outside lane, you have to hit the brakes again to avoid mowing down a motorcycle rider who has at that very second decided to climb onto the footpath, and found that he can’t do it at all. By the time you hit Dickenson Road, the light has changed again, and you’re stuck for another seven minutes, during which time RJ Malavika plays Robbie Williams (but, in the first stroke of luck you’ve had since reaching Trinity Circle, also Fallout Boy). You then face another jam at the turn onto Residency Road, caused by autos trying to make a U-turn through the gaps between police barricades, and BMTC buses trying to change lanes.
You park at 1045, and walk into office at 1100, a little over an hour after you reached Trinity Circle, which is a five minute walk from office.
So…
…
I am closer than ever to becoming a smoker or a regular drinker. Yes, these are merely forms of escapism, but I want to escape the crap I’m going through. Gujews bitching about the weakening dollar, ten minute traffic halts, small scale industrialists becoming frantic about their forwards limits- what have I done to deserve this, I ask.
However, I don’t believe in spending money on bad habits. So if I take up smoking, it’ll be beedis, and if I take up drinking, it’ll be country liquor. This will hasten my death, but right now I am in agreement with Legodeath: death will be sweet release.
Agriculture, Lending, and the Middle Class
October 1, 2007Does everybody here remember Ravikiran’s Dear Middle Class of India post? It abused the Middle Class of India for causing the agricultural crisis by not agitating against the law that prevents farmers from selling their land.
In the comments, it provoked howls of outrage from the Middle Class of India, who angrily said that they couldn’t be held responsible for sins of omission, or for not agitating against a law that they didn’t even know about in the first place.
I was reminded of that post when I saw this: AID India’s call for candlelight vigils across the world to ‘support Indian farmers’ tomorrow. Oh, and this associated page of voices of support, where not a single middle class Indian has proposed a solution that involves letting farmers sell their land (assuming that they have proposed solutions instead of mouthing platitudes about support).
I am tempted to act snarky and say ‘See! See! The middle class is every bit as idiotic as the cartel’s smartest member said it was.’. And some of the comments there are honestly idiotic. They want to improve the lot of the Indian farmer by consuming local food. In America. Someone has brightly proposed inflation linked subsidies. Others have called for abolition of zamindari (which happened fifty years ago), and abused taxes (agricultural income is not taxed).
However, I have been recently called upon to be less politically incorrect. While this will be a source of disappointment to my adoring public, especially Mohan, I am making the effort. And so, instead of being snarky, I will give well reasoned arguments of why allowing farmers to sell their land is a better solution than anything else proposed.
Let’s begin.
*
All solutions other than freeing up the market for agricultural land have costs attached. Subsidies to farmers will be borne by taxpayers. Debt relief will screw up banks (and as a result, actually make banks less eager to advance agricultural credit). Allowing the price of produce to rise will infuriate consumers.
If you insist on preventing the sale of agricultural land, the two best solutions are:
- Creating agricultural infrastructure which gives farmers information on what to plant, how to plant it, and how to sell it. This will work, but if it’s the government which takes up the job, it will work slowly, ineffectively, and be saddled with corruption.
- Allowing modern retail to flourish, knock the middlemen and their associated costs out of the supply chain, and give farmers a better price. This will also speed up the processes of Solution #1. The only problem is that if the AID India page was any indication, the middle class will hate this solution because it involves big corporates telling farmers what to plant and encourages (gasp!) consumption of non-local food.
But allowing farmers to sell their land costs nothing. Nobody is adversely affected by it.
Let’s continue.
*
But this will just lead to capitalists grabbing land at throwaway prices and making SEZs!
In case you haven’t noticed, capitalists are doing this right now. They are doing this with the support and love of the government. The government is abusing its position as the sole buyer of agricultural land to acquire it and sell it at a fifty percent premium (at least, the fifty percent premium held for the land my dad bought in Kanjeevaram this year). If farmers sold land directly, they could capture the premium instead.
But farmers are illiterate and unorganised and have no negotiating power.
This is a real problem. But there are solutions. An auction process is one. Landowner cooperatives for sales are another. It’s not an insurmountable problem.
Also, please note that the economic rationale of landgrabbing rests on the premise of insufficient land, and being able to charge huge prices for industrial or commercial or residential property. If land could be freely converted to nonagricultural use in the first place, the huge price differential would become a much smaller price differential.
Let’s continue.
*
But if farmers sell their land, how will we grow food?!
I could reiterate Ravikiran/ Nitin’s argument that we could just import it from the Americans, but since people think that ‘self-sufficiency’ is the killer retort to this, I will respond to this objection at a more fundamental level.
The most important point of allowing the free sale of agricultural land is not that agricultural land will be sold. It’s that agricultural land can be used as collateral.
There was once a P Sainath column where Sainath was outraged that you could get a car loan for a Mercedes at zero percent interest, while farmers had to pay twenty four percent or suchlike to finance their crops. (Update: Ah, here it is.) I will now explain why this is so.
People who get low-interest car loans can do so because of two reasons:
- They can provide documentary proof (income tax returns or bank statements or salary slips) which establish that they are capable of repaying the loan.
- A car can be repossessed and resold.
These two factors reduce the risk on the loan to such an extent that the interest rate on it can be dropped.
But the farmer has no such comfort to offer lenders. His income sucks. And – this is the most important point – even if he did offer his land as collateral, it would be worthless to the lender. Because the lender can’t sell it, remember? Nobody’s allowed to buy it. So agricultural credit is priced like a personal loan, when it could so easily be priced like a mortgage.
And this is crucial. The only thing a farmer has is his land. And the law against transfer of agricultural property ensures that he can’t borrow against it. If he could borrow, it would allow him to experiment with high yielding seeds, or to educate his kids, or to ride out droughts.
*
So if you do go to any of the vigils, please shout a few slogans about letting farmers sell their land. It will be more useful and productive than talking about local consumption and corporate interests.
mChek Goes Live?
September 19, 2007The much-hyped, long-in-development mChek seems to have gotten a little closer to mainstream commercialisation.
Okay, it’s much hyped only if you follow the telecom sector and read BusinessWorld every week, but within that set of people, it’s hyped enough. mChek is basically this company/ product which allows you to use your mobile phone as either a credit card or a card swipe machine.
So if you’re the guy paying, mChek theoretically allows you to stop carrying five credit cards in your wallet and just use your mobile phone. And if you’re a merchant, mChek lets you skip the pain of installing EDCs with dedicated phone lines, and just use the mobile phone you already have. (That’s the theory – I’ve never seen it in practice.)
Anyway, why I’m saying that it got a little closer to mainstream commercialisation today is that Airtel spammed me and told me that I could now pay my Airtel bill with mChek. Which is the first case I’ve ever seen of a merchant announcing that they would take mChek payments.
The only thing is that I won’t actually be using mChek, since I’ve already set up ECS payment on my credit card. Even if I hadn’t, I probably couldn’t, since mChek seems to be set up only for VISA, and both my cards are Mastercard.
Some thoughts on mChek in general:
- mChek actually brings together two of my favourite things: telecom and finance. I approve heartily, because as I’ve pointed out, they’re mostly the same thing.
- I think the reason mChek is set up on credit cards rather than on debit cards/ bank accounts is because of RBI regulations which don’t allow bank account transactions on anything other than chequebooks and debit cards. I’m not sure about the details – I’d have to mail some people to check. This is quite a tragedy, because something like this could demolish the costs of transacation banking for banks, and actually spread banking far faster than the FinMin’s diktat to provide no-frills banking accounts.
- Since I am a geek when it comes to stuff like this, I’ll go ahead and say it: this doesn’t go far enough. I’m dreaming of the day when your mobile phone credit limit and your credit card limit are the same. Instead of linking your phone to your card, your phone becomes your card. You shop with your phone, and your purchases are included in your mobile bill, whose credit limit is underwritten by your card company.
- I wonder what their sales strategy is for bringing merchants on to the system. Their own website admits that this sort of system works best for people like taxi drivers and auto drivers. But how is a startup going to sell to a massively fragmented and unorganised market like this? It’s easier for them to target corporates like Airtel, but for an Airtel, an extra payment system doesn’t have that much value. Or are they planning to piggybank on their partners? The website mentions SBI and ICICI Bank as partners – is this going to show up as a cross-sell target for ICICI’s EDC division? This promises to be interesting.
(And now I regret unsubscribing MobilePundit from my feedreader some months ago. Need to head over there and find out what Veer Chand Bothra’s been saying about mChek now.)
HPEC-MIFC
September 5, 2007I want to make babies with the Percy Mistry report.
(If you do click, it’s a 2 MB PDF file, but worth every byte.)
Running Out of Metals II
August 22, 2007My post on credit card brand dilution left the question of what to call the next premium card once even Platinum has become mass market unanswered. Here are some options:
- Continue on the path of using rarer and rarer metals to represent greater exclusivity. Use rare earths like Praseodynium and Ytterbium. While conceptually pure, this strategy will generate names which are not well known and also difficult to pronounce. On the other hand, if the nuclear deal goes through, a Uranium or Plutonium card would have unmitigated brand value.
- Go the Mainland China way and use colours instead of metals – the by-invitation-only card in China is called Black.
- Use minerals that are not metals: Ruby, Garnet, Emerald and Diamond. Unfortunately, all of these have less perceived value than Platinum.
- Fictional metals. Adamantium, Cavorite, Vibranium, and Dilithium. And for the card with no credit limit and boundless reward points: Kryptonite. Need I say more?
Design for Servants
August 22, 2007I have been thinking recently about how so many Indian household products and housework processes are badly designed. I am not talking about brands but entire product categories. Examples of badly designed products include beds which are difficult to move (not so common these days as twenty years ago), wire netting window covers which collect dust, mixies which are too noisy (especially if you compare a desi brand like Sumeet or Jaipan with a Philips or Morphy Richards), and entire houses which are badly laid out (I will elaborate on this later).Also, products which are well-designed and replace bad ways of doing things are not popular at all. In my building of sixteen flats, mine is the only one with an ironing board. Also, everyone hangs their laundry out on the balcony. Nobody uses a clotheshorse. (I myself am to blame in this respect, but only because I haven’t bought one yet. I’m planning to do it next month.) This is stupid for two reasons: first, Bangalore has a rainy climate, and drying your clothes outside could just mean that they get wet again. Second, a bird can come and crap on your laundry after you’ve washed it, wasting all the effort that went into washing it in the first place (yes, I’m bitter, so sue me).
The slow way in which well designed products are adopted is astonishing. Washing machine penetration is abysmal as it is. But even when there are washing machines, top-loading washing machines outsell front-loading machines. After ten years of frost-free technology, manual defrost refrigerators are still on the market even though the price difference is just about five thousand rupees. This makes a total mockery of motivational sales lectures about how price is irrelevant if you can offer a customer value.
So why isn’t the customer looking for value in design? I think the answer lies in domestic servants. The Indian servant culture (stretching from visiting bais to stay-at-home cooks) means that the person who buys the product (the householder) is completely different from the person who uses the product (the servant). Since the buyer is not going to use the product, he sees no value in usability, and so always chases value in terms of price reductions instead. This can have horrible consequences for the person who has to use the badly designed product.
Example one: mopping. If we’re the ones wet-cleaning our floors, we go out and buy a mop. As long as the maid is around, we expect her to do it with a pochha, her back bent at a completely uncomfortable angle. The extra price you pay to avoid that uncomfortable posture is only a hundred and twenty rupees, but the cost-benefit ratio doesn’t even enter your head until it’s you who has to bear the cost and benefit.
Example two: kitchens. Specifically, my kitchen. It is this kitchen which has got me so worked up about the whole subject and left me convinced that designing for servants is the reason usability in India is so crap. The problems with this kitchen include:
- It is too small. This makes ventilation a problem even with an exhaust fan. It also means ingredients and utensils have to be densely stacked. So to access one thing, you have to first remove five other things (and then put them back). It also makes cleaning it difficult.
- The cupboards have no shelves. There are no nails from which to hang utensils or utensil racks. Again, this causes problems when you need to move five things to get to the one thing you’re looking for.
- There are not enough power points for appliances. There isn’t enough shelf space or floor space for appliances for that matter. The floor space is all taken up by the master bedroom (which my flatmate only uses to sleep in), and the hall (which isn’t used at all).
This is a problem for me because when I’m fixing breakfast in the morning I want to do it as soon as possible so I can get to work. At that time having to remove three different plates and bartans to get to a frying pan is completely annoying. Of course, the person who designed the kitchen was doing it for a bai whose time was much less valuable, and so the cupboards have no shelves.
Unfortunately, the situation will not change until any of these four things happens:
- People realize that their domestic servants are human beings, and stop expecting them to do stuff that they wouldn’t do themselves. Ha ha ha. Good luck trying to change the attitude of three hundred million people.
- The government or industry associations step in and set minimum usability standards. Ha ha ha. Good luck trying to enforce the standards.
- Domestic help moves from a servant model to a service provider model, where servants are professionals who are hired and paid well by the hour. Ha ha ha. Good luck trying to set up a professional and premium maid service in India when there are half a billion Biharis, Bangladeshis, and Nepalians who’ll happily work for peanuts.
- More people start doing their own housework and start relying less on domestic help, and so start demanding better designed household appliances. This, I am actually optimistic about. Domestic help can be a value-destroyer in many cases: supervising servants takes up time, which you might as well use to do the work yourself. If there’s no grandmother/ jobless wife around to supervise the servant, the cost-benefit changes (which is why I’ve sacked my cook).
This post could lead to many other topics, such as why there are no ten-litre packs of juice in India, and why Praful Bidwai is an idiot, but I have no time to write them. So I’ll end it here.
Running Out of Metals
August 21, 2007Mature (and maturing) credit card markets have a problem: they’re running out of metals to name their card brands. Silver has been used. So have gold and titanium. And now platinum. What’s next?
This is what happens when you have too many banks chasing too few customers. The cycle starts off when the market is first introduced to credit cards. A ‘Classic’ is offered to the mass market, ‘Executive’ or ‘Silver’ to the premium mass market (anyone with a better credit score), and ‘Gold’ by invitation only.
What happens next is simple: one particular bank will decide to ramp up marketshare. So it offers Silver cards to the Classic cardholders, Gold cards to the Silver cardholders, and a co-branded gold card with more features, or some entirely new metal to the old cardholders.
In the next stage of the cycle, all other banks do the same thing just to keep up with the competition. So eventually classic cards fall off the market, followed by silver, and then by Gold. I saw this up close in Singapore, where even Platinum now has so little exclusivity that you can ring up phonebanking and ask for a platinum card to be delivered to you the next day. India is not as developed a retail finance market, so Platinum still has some brand value. Platinum cards aren’t advertised. A platinum card is by invitation only. The invitation goes to select, obscenely wealthy customers. A platinum card has a whacking great annual fees (which will be waived if you’ve got enough assets under management, but I digress). It has brand value. It has a cachet.
Or rather, it had. Platinum cards are now going mass market in India too. It all started with HDFC bank advertising its Platinum Plus card (which, incidentally, is coloured deep green and not platinum) on hoardings of all things. Amex and StanChart’s product managers were probably cursing at the unmitigated brand dilution. The catch up cycle has now started. SBI has launched its platinum card. StanChart and Amex are still trying to maintain exclusivity, but Citi has succumbed and brought Platinum to the mass market.
And this act of Citibank is where the blogpost shifts gears and moves from putting learnings and fundaes about credit card marketing to describing my personal tragedy.
Barely a month ago, Citibank gave me a free-for-life Jet Airways Gold Card (a cobranded gold card being free for life is itself evidence of brand dilution). This card gives you Jet Airways miles instead of reward points (which is good, because Citi reward points can only be redeemed for totally crap stuff at indiaplaza.in). My monthly spend won’t generate enough miles to redeem for a ticket, but the card still has one invaluable advantage: it lets me check in at the business class counter even if I’m traveling economy. Anybody who’s faced the queues at Bangalore airport knows that this is not to be taken lightly.
Unfortunately, Citi got caught up with catching up, and launched the Jet Airways Platinum card. This is a card with the same features and miles benefits as the Gold card. And starting next month, the Gold card’s features will be downgraded to the features of the Jet Airways Silver Card. The upshot is, unless I swap to the Platinum card, I can no longer jump the check-in queue. As Ravages would put it, woe, fucking woe.
Brand dilution is immensely tragic.
Posted by Aadisht