subscribe for upcoming articles and periodical summaries of the most read ones

Random Thoughts on Leadership & Technology

How Hayek Sold Plastic to Save Gold

plastic-watches

How the least dignified product in Swiss history rescued the most dignified industry in the world

In the late 1970s, Swiss watchmaking was engaged in the most refined form of suicide available to a mature business - dying while being entirely certain it was right.

The numbers were not subtle. Employment in the industry fell from roughly ninety thousand in 1970 to under thirty thousand by the mid-eighties. Something close to a thousand firms simply stopped existing. Seiko, Citizen, Casio and Timex were selling watches that kept better time than a Swiss chronometer costing forty times more, and the Swiss response was to explain, with great patience and impeccable manners, why this did not count.

Here is the detail that should be printed on the wall of every strategy department. The Swiss had the technology first. A research consortium in Neuchâtel had a working quartz movement before Seiko shipped the Astron. The industry examined it, understood it perfectly, and concluded that it was not watchmaking. That judgement was aesthetically correct and commercially fatal.

They were not beaten by a technology they failed to understand. They were beaten by a technology they understood and found distasteful. This is by far the more common way for excellent companies to die.

The consultant who refused to write the obituary

By 1980 the two great Swiss holding groups, one owning Omega and Tissot, the other owning Longines, Rado and the movement maker ETA, were insolvent in all but paperwork. The banks that owned the debt hired a consultancy in Zurich to tell them how to bury the bodies tidily. Sell to the Japanese, break up the brands, take the write-down, move on.

The consultant was Nicolas Hayek. Born in Beirut, trained in mathematics and physics, resident in Switzerland by marriage rather than by dynasty, and conspicuously not descended from anyone in the Vallée de Joux. He had no ancestral portraits to answer to and no seat at the industry dinner to protect. This turned out to be his single most valuable qualification.

His advice was the opposite of what his clients had paid for. Merge the two dying groups. Then, far worse, go downmarket. Build a cheap watch. Build millions of them.

Then he did the thing consultants almost never do. In 1985 he assembled investors, put in his own money and bought control of the company he had just advised. A man who eats his own slide deck is a rare and dangerous animal.

The plastic heresy

The Swatch was not designed by a marketing committee looking for a growth vector. It came out of ETA, where engineers had been asked for something absurdly thin and cheap, and answered by cutting the part count from about ninety-one to fifty-one, using the plastic case itself as the baseplate of the movement, and sealing the whole thing with ultrasonic welding so that it could never be opened, serviced or repaired.

Read that last clause again as a Swiss watchmaker would have read it in 1982. The industry's entire moral claim rested on the idea that a watch is repaired, serviced, inherited, and outlives you. Hayek's answer was a sealed plastic object in traffic-cone orange, priced around forty francs, that you were expected to lose, replace, and own several of at once.

This was not a product launch. It was a provocation with a strap. Retailers were unenthusiastic. Distributors were confused. The craft establishment felt personally insulted, which is very often the sign that you have located the correct strategy.

The final indignity was that the heresy was patriotic. Because assembly was automated, labour was a trivial share of unit cost, so the cheapest watch in the shop could still legitimately say Swiss Made. The people defending Swiss manufacturing were opposing the only product capable of keeping Swiss manufacturing at volume. Nobody enjoyed pointing this out, so mostly nobody did.

What the plastic actually bought

The lazy version of this story is that a fun product made a lot of money. The money was the least interesting part.

Hayek sold plastic to save gold. The gold did not thank him for about fifteen years.

The lessons, for those with a heritage deck of their own

The move that saves you is the one your culture finds embarrassing. Culture is organisational memory of past success, which makes it a superb guide to yesterday and a liability today. Any strategy your heritage approves of unanimously is a strategy your competitors have already modelled, priced and discounted. Embarrassment is not proof that an idea is good, but it is reliable evidence that the idea is not obvious, and non-obvious is where the returns live.

Never surrender the cheap end. Attackers do not arrive at the top of your range. They arrive at the bottom, where your margins are thin and your pride is thinner, and they use the volume to fund their climb. Exiting the entry-level segment is not portfolio discipline. It is installing a staircase to your own floor and holding the door.

Cannibalise yourself on schedule. Someone is going to sell the good-enough version of what you make. The only question on the table is whether that someone reports to you.

Dilution is a real risk and also the favourite word of people who have never had to fund anything. Brand dilution is a risk. Brand irrelevance is a fate. The discipline that made this work was architectural rather than emotional - separate brands, separate factories, separate people, separate stories. Swatch and Breguet shared a balance sheet and never shared a room. Segregate the execution, not the ambition.

Beware the veto that comes dressed as taste. In most companies the phrase that kills the most value is not that will not work. It is that is not who we are. The first is a testable claim. The second is a costume worn by fear, and it is almost impossible to argue with because it sounds like integrity.

The person who eats their own advice is worth ten who do not. Hayek's recommendation became credible at the exact moment he bet his own capital on it. Conviction is cheap in a steering committee and expensive on a cap table, which is precisely why the expensive kind is the only kind worth listening to.

Why it usually has to be a barbarian

Here is the uncomfortable structural point. The people who built the excellence are the least capable of authorising its violation, and this is not a failure of intelligence. It is a conflict of identity.

Asking a third-generation master watchmaker to approve a sealed plastic watch is asking him to state, publicly, in front of everyone whose respect constitutes his life, that the thing he is best at is no longer the thing that matters most. Very few humans can do that. The ones who can are usually retired or unemployable.

An outsider can do it easily, because the outsider has no dinner invitation to protect and no ghosts to disappoint. This is the whole of the mechanism. It is not that outsiders are smarter. It is that they are cheaply able to be rude about the sacred.

Two corollaries for anyone holding a board seat. First, if every senior leader shares the same training, the same tenure and the same reverence, your company is not being governed, it is being curated, and it can now only be saved by luck. Second, hiring the outsider accomplishes nothing unless you also hand them enough authority to offend people who outrank them in prestige. An outsider without power is just an unpopular memo with a start date.

The question worth asking on Monday

Somewhere in your organisation right now there is a proposal that everyone tacitly agrees is beneath the brand. A cheap tier. A free version. An ugly product that solves a real problem badly. A channel that feels tacky. A market that does not photograph well.

It has been raised twice and quietly buried both times, by thoughtful, senior, extremely competent people, for reasons that sounded like stewardship.

Ask which of your embarrassing options is the one that funds your dignity a decade from now. Then look around the table and identify who is best positioned to kill it. It will be your most respected veteran, and they will be sincere, and they will be wrong.

Hayek did not rescue Swiss watchmaking by loving it more than the Swiss did. He rescued it by respecting it slightly less.