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.
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.
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.
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| 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.
