Why Apple will win its App Store antitrust case against Epic

Epic, the maker of the hugely popular Fortnite game, has gone to federal court to complain about the high fees and strict rules imposed by Apple in its App Store. Going to the App Store is currently the only way iOS users can get Fortnite and other Epic titles. Apple requires developers to use its own proprietary payment system to pay for apps and games, and it charges big developers like Epic 30% of their in-app revenue to do so. Apple says it uses the money to provide an easy-to-use and well-organized app store experience, invest in the platform and tools exclusive to iOS developers, as well as offer strong privacy and security measures to prevent customers from being exposed to financial fraud and apps containing malware. Epic’s case against Apple is highly nuanced and filled with gray areas. It has, to quote The Dude from the Big Lebowski, “a lotta ins, lotta outs, lotta what-have-you’s.” There are strengths and weaknesses to both sides’ main arguments. And with all antitrust cases, the burden lies with the plaintiff—in this case, Epic—to prove Apple’s actions harm competition and ultimately harm the consumer. These are the main points of the case so far, and why I think Apple has an edge over Epic as the trial heads into its final week. Tax or Commission? Apple argues that its 30% commission is the industry standard for digital transactions, and that retail commissions on apps and games have historically been north of 40%. Market forces drove app store operators including Microsoft, Sony, Steam, and Nintendo to converge on that common 30% rate, but just because that is the standard doesn’t mean there isn’t room for improvement Read More …

Meet the mystery woman who mastered IBM’s 5,400-character Chinese typewriter

I had seen this woman before. Many times now. I was certain of it. But who was she? In a film from 1947, she’s operating an electric Chinese typewriter, the first of its kind, manufactured by IBM. Semi-circled by journalists, and a nervous-looking middle-aged Chinese man—Kao Chung-chin, the engineer who invented the machine—she radiates a smile as she pulls a sheet of paper from the device. Kao is biting his lip, his eyes darting back and forth intently between the crowd and the typist. As soon as I saw that film, I began to riffle through my files. I’m a professor of Chinese history at Stanford University, and I was years into a book project on the history of modern Chinese information technology—and the Chinese typewriter specifically. By that point, I had amassed a large and still-growing body of source materials, including archival documents, historic photographs, and even antique machines. My office was becoming something of a private museum. As I thought, I’d encountered the typist previously in my research, in glossy IBM brochures and on the cover of Chinese magazines. Who was she? Why did she appear so frequently, so prominently, in the history of IBM’s effort to electrify the Chinese language? Read More …

Meet the mystery woman who mastered IBM’s 5,400-character Chinese typewriter

I had seen this woman before. Many times now. I was certain of it. But who was she? In a film from 1947, she’s operating an electric Chinese typewriter, the first of its kind, manufactured by IBM. Semi-circled by journalists, and a nervous-looking middle-aged Chinese man—Kao Chung-chin, the engineer who invented the machine—she radiates a smile as she pulls a sheet of paper from the device. Kao is biting his lip, his eyes darting back and forth intently between the crowd and the typist. As soon as I saw that film, I began to riffle through my files. I’m a professor of Chinese history at Stanford University, and I was years into a book project on the history of modern Chinese information technology—and the Chinese typewriter specifically. By that point, I had amassed a large and still-growing body of source materials, including archival documents, historic photographs, and even antique machines. My office was becoming something of a private museum. As I thought, I’d encountered the typist previously in my research, in glossy IBM brochures and on the cover of Chinese magazines. Who was she? Why did she appear so frequently, so prominently, in the history of IBM’s effort to electrify the Chinese language? The IBM Chinese typewriter was a formidable machine—not something just anyone could handle with the aplomb of the young typist in the film. On the keyboard affixed to the hulking, gunmetal gray chassis, 36 keys were divided into four banks: 0 through 5; 0 through 9; 0 through 9; and 0 through 9. With just these 36 keys, the machine was capable of producing up to 5,400 Chinese characters in all, wielding a language that was infinitely more difficult to mechanize than English or other Western writing systems Read More …

After claiming to care about more than profit, corporate America still hasn’t found its soul

In 2019, 181 of America’s top CEOs made a bold, collective statement to the world: A company’s purpose had to be more than just making a return for its investors. This powerful group argued that there are other stakeholders in the equation that companies need to be answerable to, including customers, employees, suppliers, and the communities these companies serve. This statement flew in the face of the long-running capitalist mantra of maximizing shareholder value, and many experts argued that it was about time. Being the CEO of a publicly traded company today is a whole different ball game than what it was even two decades ago. Consumer activism is far more prevalent today thanks to access to social media. One study estimates that about 38% of all Americans boycott at least one company at any given point in time, with the number of boycotters growing double digits annually. The Fairtrade movement, which ensures that suppliers such as farmers get paid fairly, has been consistently growing in popularity for the past several decades. The conspicuous impact of the Black Lives Matter movement as well as the divisive presidential term of Donald Trump highlighted that companies could no longer remain indifferent to the political opinions of the communities they served. All these macro trends, coupled with an increased urgency around climate change, meant that the public at large warmly welcomed corporate America’s new statement of purpose.  For the optimists among us, it appeared that corporate America had finally taken the first step to discovering its soul. Yet, nearly two years later, we do not have much to show for it. In fact, just a few months ago, one of the more prominent advocates of the corporation-with-a-soul movement, Danone CEO Emmanuel Faber, was unceremoniously removed from his position. Shareholders ousted Faber because he could not generate a return for them during his tenure as CEO. Ironically, his public firing did not generate any uproar from the other stakeholders he had focused on serving. A sobering reality Corporate accountability can be a tricky thing to get right. Despite their elite statuses and high-compensation levels, most CEOs and top managers operate within the same framework as regular employees. They get hired for top jobs based on their skills, networks, and experience, are incentivized to perform well and can get fired if they don’t. Read More …

Remote work made digital nomads possible. The pandemic made them essential

This story is part of  The Road Ahead , a series that examines the future of travel and how we’ll experience the world after the pandemic. In April, a radio DJ, a marine ecologist, a water polo player, and a migrant studies scholar flew to idyllic Dubrovnik, a seaside city in Croatia with a vast labyrinth of medieval architecture famed for composing the scenery of the cult fantasy TV show Game of Thrones . Hailing from Finland, Japan, and the United States, the travelers were among 10 lucky winners of a first-of-its-kind  digital nomad residency contest, for which the prize was a month-long stay in the lush “Pearl of the Adriatic” with complimentary meals and lodging. The residents ate, drank, networked, and day-tripped to the cliffs of Konavle—home of 2020’s most beautiful beach in Europe—and the island of Mljet, which is shrouded in dense forest that features exciting hazards like venomous snakes and wild mongooses. Ostensibly, they were there to brainstorm how to design Dubrovnik as a nomad-friendly city in the digital age. But for Croatia, the real goal was to market its own image away from a “holiday playground,” as program director Tanja Polegubic calls it, into a serious long-term destination for remote workers. You could think of it as striking while the iron is hot—or really, while Croatia is hot: During the COVID-19 pandemic, the country saw an influx of workers fleeing expensive cities in western Europe. “Asia wasn’t an option, so a lot of people were looking to the Balkans because the further east you go, it’s a lot cheaper,” Polegubic says. Croatia’s not alone: Countries spanning the Caribbean isle to the Arabian desert are suddenly pivoting to court digital nomads in the post-coronavirus era, dangling everything from free vaccines, to tax breaks, to the chance to live in tropical paradise. Call it a new global arms race, where the weapon in question is an arsenal of highly skilled remote workers—ones that were trapped in their homes during the pandemic, but could now be untethered by it from their offices forever. With a new class of human capital up for grabs, countries are looking to stockpile talent, and digital nomads are living a new reality: They’ve become a hot commodity. COVID-19 was an existential crisis: For the first time, a community built around having no fixed address was forced to shelter in place.” Digital nomads, ironically, are easy to locate. By nature of their lifestyle, many have built careers on the internet: sharing snapshots of dreamy landscapes spun from coconut palm trees and rainbow-colored villas, hosting blogs that detail the ins and outs of life perpetually on the road Read More …