In the Modern Era, this simple, honest model is so over. The contemporary MBA can identify the problem immediately: for the consumer, the existence of a leek market to meet a very specific demand is perfect. For the leek merchant, it's a dead end. The merchant has the customer's florin. All right. Now what? That's it for the benefit to the merchant of the leek? Unacceptable! What was needed was a Disruption!
The answer for the contemporary MBA was found in a parallel model of commerce: organized crime. Instead of leeks, let's talk about printers-- the peripheral devices by which a user can output a document stored in a file on their computer to paper. Now imagine a modern printer manufacturer, let's call it, I don't know, HorsePiss. Not too long ago, the transaction between the consumer and the printer manufacturer resembled that of the leek scenario. In this case, the printer company engineered the printer, built it and placed it on the market, and the consumer purchased it. With the transaction complete, the consumer returned home with their new device, established a connection between it and their computer and happily proceeded to print away-- a wonderful capability especially in light of the way that advances in the technology and tight competition made printing documents, webpages, photos and files from the comfort of ones home practical and affordable for all, with the only ongoing additional expense, the purchase of supplies such as ink or toner for the print jobs and paper of various stocks to meet the particular needs of the user. Transaction complete.
Enter the MBA. A little business managerial magic, and now when the user purchases the printer, they are offered an enhancement-- for a monthly fee, the company will now ensure that the user is well stocked with ink which will come as needed through the mail. The consumer was really only looking for the printer, but if for a nominal fee that works out in the math one does in one's head to somewhat less than the cost of buying toner off the shelf based on current usage, the manufacturer will see to it that the user does not run out of ink (always the primary inconvenience of home printing), what could be the harm? The unwary consumer signs the form slid under his nose when the sale is rung up and forgets it.
And for several months, the system seems to work seamlessly. The printer works great, has several other useful functions, and whenever there is an indication that toner might be running a bit low, right on schedule a replacement cartridge comes sliding through the mail slot. And then one day, for a special project the printer's owner needs to actually use the printer for a big job. Instead of the page or two here or there that they might typically print, they need to print a few hundred index cards. The paper tray can adjust. Because of the nature of the project, none of the cards has more than a few words on it, but it's a big job, and naturally in the process some of them need to be re-done. No problem for the Horse Piss 5000. Good enough.
The next month is a more typical month for printing, which is why it's surprising when one day, on a small but urgently needed print job, the printer comes up with an unexpected message: Printing is unavailable. Visit the HorsePiss website for a resolution. Although there is plenty of ink and nothing seems to be wrong with the printer, it will not print-- no way around it-- and so to get to the bottom of it, you visit the company's website. There you learn that the trouble seems to originate from an outstanding bill. The nominal monthly subscription has been paid, so what could the problem be? Surprisingly, the problem is the large number of index cards that were printed the prior month. Although in terms of ink, the job was not much bigger than what you might typically print in a month, and although your understanding is that what you are paying for with your subscription is ink, according to the contract you didn't read, the number of pages printed for that job was far over the limit of what you are allowed for the month. HorsePiss now needs $200 before the printer will work. How does HorsePiss know how many pages you printed? It's in the contract: the internet connection you have to your printer is used by HorsePiss to monitor your use.
Because you didn't read the contract, you thought you owned the printer you bought in that store that day outright, but -- ha ha! Wrong!-- you are actually merely paying monthly for a privilege that you thought was a right; a privilege that is policed by surveillance you inadvertently invited like a vampire into your home when you hastily signed that agreement you didn't read. The printing of index cards might be a bit unusual but you'd have exactly the same issue printing a large number of labels since each label is considered by HorsePiss a page-- to the business office, a receivable. They could all be blank but if they passed through your printer and were counted by the HorsePiss spies, your ink service would still charge you.
You really need your regular sized print job, so when you have the $200, you fork over the money to HorsePiss and like magic-- once the check clears and whatever process Horse Piss has to go through to release your hold-- the printer works once again. Until the spies of HorsePiss release you, your ineffectual printer continues to disappoint you with the same error message whenever you try to print with it.
For the consumer, it can feel like a violation. But for HorsePiss, it's genius! Didn't expect that fee? Perhaps avoid a future fee and get more pages per month by upping your service agreement. Of course none of the agreements will cover unlimited printing. That is the old way of possessing a printer. Welcome to the future! For the violated consumer, what recourse is there to go back to the old way and get HorsePiss out of the picture? You can't call the police. You signed the contract! They work for HorsePiss in this instance. In any case, the police can't order the printer to print. That power lies with HorsePiss, pursuant to your fulfillment of the terms of your contract. Can this printer that you thought was yours until you were rudely disabused by the spies of HorsePiss actually be yours by terminating the contract? Sure-- just pay the fee and return all cartridges the company has sent you. Don't still have them or just don't feel like it? Just pay an additional fee. You'll need to wait for the next billing cycle of course. Oh, and by the way that ink that the company has been sending you is a special ink that lasts about ten times longer than the ink you pay several times more for in the store. And it is only available through the service, and HorsePiss knows when you're using it and if you insist on using up this special toner you thought you purchased, you will be need to remain under contract, or else the printer will not work. But as the nice young man from some other part of the world who HorsePiss outsourced your rage call to patiently explains to you, if you want to go back to expensive short-lasting toner you yourself have to buy every month, fine. Just give the gentleman your credit card number to be let out of your indenture.
Of course, you pay one way or the other. Until HorsePiss is satisfied that their demands are met, the printer that you thought you already bought from them might be useful as a doorstop but it ain’t gonna print. What are you going to do, write your print jobs out by hand?
Don't rule it out.
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