Sunset Bikes?

A week ago, I gave you, dear readers, a lesson in business history disguised as a post about an aspect of bicycling.

Specifically, I reported on Uber's foray into the bike-share market.  This shows that the company's decision-makers realize are not mistaking their business for their industry, as other companies did before it was too late.  Actually, Uber executives probably realized that in New York and other cities, the model they pioneered--taxis that could be hailed by a phone app--was undermining the taxi industry because there were simply too many on the streets. (This has had tragic results: Six cabbies have committed suicide this year.)  Whatever the case, Uber made the move to dockless bike-sharing, which could be said to be part of the new "share economy"--or of the transportation industry.

Now another company is venturing into a related industry--that of bicycles themselves.  What's really interesting about this story is that this firm, which makes one of the most iconic American products, has an all-but-forgotten history as a bicycle manufacturer.  And the products for which it's currently known have---two wheels!

Yes, I am talking about Harley Davidson.  If you're of a certain age, you remember Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda astride custom Harleys in 1969's Easy Rider.  But, in recent years, the brand's image has become as staid as that of Buick or Oldsmobile--or, ahem, Schwinn.  As it is, milennials are far less likely than anyone over 35 to buy any motorcycle at all, and among those who have the funds and inclination to buy one, Harley is seen as an "old white guy's brand."  

So, one has to wonder whether Harley's introduction of a limted-edition cruiser will achieve its intended goal of reaching younger consumers--especially with its $4200 price tag.  Ironically, Harley's earlier incursion into the bike market, from 1917 to 1922, was also an attempt to "hook" younger people--in this case children--on the company's brand in the hope they would grow up to buy the company's motorcycles.

The limited-edition Harley

Now, I am not trying to knock Harley or motorcycling in general.  My uncle rode for more than half a century and finally got the Harley he always wanted just a couple of years before he had to stop riding.  If anything, I feel sad for him, because he had to stop doing something he loved, and perhaps a little sad for Harley.  After all, the bikes and the brand practically scream "Americana" and they were made, for decades, in Milwaukee by union workers. 

In a sad irony, the tariffs imposed by El Cheeto Grande with the ostensible purpose of protecting American workers and industries may deal another, if not the ultimate, blow to a company that's been on the ropes for some time.  More than one analyst familiar with the company and industry says that for some time, overseas sales have been keeping Harley-Davidson afloat.  Perhaps the tariffs that were supposed to be the gunboats guarding the company could instead be the torpedo that sinks them--and one has to wonder whether their bicycles will be their life preservers.

The Future, For Now? Am I Responsible For It?

I'll take credit--but not blame.

No, I'm not channeling El Cheeto Grande.  Rather, I am here now to tell you that a line I tossed off in an earlier post has become a reality--better (or worse) yet, a business plan.

Last year I wrote about the then-new dockless bike share programs making their debut in China.  They have since appeared in European and North American locales:  In fact, there's talk of bringing such services to the Bronx and other parts of New York City not presently served by Citibike.

I called those dockless programs, which allow anyone with the company's app on his or her smart phone to pick up or leave a bicycle, "Uber for bicycles."

Now--you guessed it--Uber is getting into the bike share business.  I am not surprised, really:  If the future is in driverless cars (the Force forbid!) or fewer or no cars, it makes perfect sense for the company to look at other forms of transportation.

Uber is doing something to many other companies failed to do:  look at the industry, not the business, of which they are a part.  Some business writer, I forget whom, said the real reason why the New York Central and Pennsylvania Railroads--at their peak, the world's two largest corporations-- are in the dustbin of history (Funny, isn't it, to quote Marx when talking about business?) is that they didn't realize that they were not just in the railroad business--which was dying in the US--but in the transportation industry.  So, by the time they merged, it was too late to save either of them.

One of the better analogies I can think of in the bicycle world is Schwinn.  They failed to see their role in the bicycle industry, which changed dramatically.  That is why the company started by Ignaz Schwinn in the 1890s didn't start making (or even offering) BMX or mountain bikes until other bike makers, some of them newcomers, had already taken hold of those markets.  The company's management seemed to think that its industry consisted of making and selling people the bikes their parents and grandparents bought--the only difference being that it added derailleurs and skinnier tires to the two-wheeled tanks they'd been making.  

Which reminds me:  For all of the Varsities and Continentals they sold during the '70's Bike Boom, they really missed the boat when, a couple of years in, college students and other young adults started to demand lighter bikes, like the ones offered by European and Japanese makers.  

At that time, the only really lightweight bicycles Schwinn offered were the Paramount and, depending on how you define "lightweight", the Sports Tourer.  The  former was beyond the means of most young people, while the latter was indistinguishable, appearance-wise, from the company's flash-welded bikes.By the time Schwinn started to offer the Japanese-made LeTour and Voyageur, in 1974, the Bike Boom had already crested and people who wanted lighter bikes had already bought Nishikis, Fujis, Motobecanes and Raleighs.

Anyway, it seems like Uber is not falling into the same trap as Schwinn or the railroads.  They are debuting their new share program in Berlin, Germany and, I am sure, will expand into other places.  With the popularity of dockless share programs and the company's name recognition, it seems like Uber has an unbeatable combination--for now.

It'd be nice if they give me credit, though--although it would be nice to be compensated at least as well as someone who created one of the world's most recognized logos.