The
Xbox 360 Uncloaked: The Real Story Behind Microsoft’s Xbox 360
Video Game Console (2nd
edition)
By Dean Takahashi
Copyright © Dean Takahashi. All rights reserved.
Published by Dean Takahashi at Smashwords
Unauthorized
duplication, publication, reproduction of any kind, or resale of all
or any portion of this eBook is strictly prohibited without prior
written permission from the author.
For my 360 degree circle: my wife, the girls, my parents, and my brother. And for Robert Delaware.
New Forward
for Smashwords 2nd eBook edition, November
2009
The original version of this book was among the
pioneers of eBooks, published in 2006 at the time by SpiderWorks.
Since that time, self-publishing has come a long way. Companies such
as Smashwords have made it exceedingly easy to take a book and
publish it. They take much of the risk out of publishing and can
easily distribute a work across a variety of electronic platforms.
And eBook platforms have come a long way as well, with devices from
the iPhone to the Amazon Kindle starting to fulfill the dream of
being able to download and read a book anytime, anywhere.
That’s
exciting to me as an author because I can offer an updated version of
the original book far more easily. This story has lived on for me as
a personal passion. I’ve continued to learn new things about
the launch of the Xbox 360 and its aftermath, and I have written
about these events as they happened. The biggest news, of course, is
Microsoft’s $1.1 billion write-off related to continuing defect
problems with the game console. This special Smashwords edition has
three appendices attached that did not appear with the original book.
Those appendices are stories that I wrote about the Xbox 360 defects.
They were published by my current employer, VentureBeat, and I have
permission to use them in this work. I believe the appendices will
help bring the story of the console up to date as of this printing.
Thank you again for reading the book.
Introduction
(for 2006 first edition)
The people who make consoles are made of sturdy stuff. They take a lot of risks, but they don’t always get much glory. In my first book on the Xbox, and in this one as well, I’ve tried to dwell on the humans behind the machine. This is their story.
I didn’t
land a publisher for this book until August, 2005. But I have been
working on it in some fashion from the moment my first book on the
chronicles of the Xbox ended in 2002. I wrote my stories on the
evolution of the video game industry for Red Herring magazine and,
later, The San Jose Mercury News, and I saved my notes like a pack
rat. At first, I didn’t think the subject would lend itself to
a book again. Microsoft didn’t conquer the world the first time
around, so who would want to read a sequel? But I have run into a lot
of people who felt the subject deserved another telling. Popular
demand drove me to give it another try. I wanted to give this book an
insider’s tale, a probe into a single project, with as much
detail as possible, in the hopes of recreating a feeling that you’re
there with the team. It would be a story that you wouldn’t get
by simply following the public announcements about the project in
chronological order. That’s what Tracy Kidder pulled off with
The Soul of a New Machine, and that has always been my beacon.
I proposed the
book, as I had done with the first one, as an independent
journalistic project. Microsoft isn’t paying me for this book
and they have no right of approval on its text. But I needed to talk
to a lot of people at the company above and beyond my normal daily
newspaper interviews. At first, Microsoft was so burdened with the
duties of its worldwide Xbox 360 launch that it decided not to work
with me on this book. This made sense to me, since laying a company’s
secrets bare for all to see isn’t always the best policy. I
kept collecting material. I made a pilgrimage to Amsterdam on my own
dime, and there I made my pitch to Peter Moore, the corporate vice
president who headed international marketing and publishing for the
Xbox division at the time. Peter eventually accepted and directed the
PR folks to work with me, when they could find the time. Molly
O’Donnell agreed to work with me and assigned Melissa Wilson of
Edelman Public Relations to coordinate all of the interviews. They
have granted me access to most of the right people.
With that help
as a springboard, I have filled in the blanks. I have talked to a
wide array of people to make this book happen. The list includes
hardware engineers, chip designers, component makers, game
developers, game publishers, analysts, CEOs, marketers, recruiters,
and gamers. They helped me put together the puzzle and get a handle
on the big picture. You draw from enough sources, and the 360 degree
view emerges.
This book has consumed so much of my time for so many months that I haven’t had time to play many games. That’s the curse of being a writer who loves video games. But my kids didn’t let me off the hook. Instead of watching Saturday morning cartoons, we are slowly making our way through one of Microsoft’s first Xbox 360 games, Kameo: Elements of Power. It’s an epic role-playing game where we take turns playing Kameo the fairy princess. Sort of like The Seven Samurai or its Western copycat, The Magnificent Seven, we are collecting a series of comrade creatures who will help us unseat the evil Thorn and his army of trolls that threaten the Enchanted Kingdom. As most gamers know, there are different ways of plowing through any game. You can take a straight shot through the levels, skipping all of the side missions and the dead ends. This is the quickest way to burn a path through Kameo. But you miss out on a lot of fun if you don’t explore a few of the side quests along the way. Side quests are the equivalent of stopping and smelling the flowers along the way.
I have come to look at the creation of the Xbox 360 the same way. There are 2,000 people working within Microsoft’s Xbox division. Beyond that, the number of people who touched the Xbox in some way, from game developers to factory workers, amounts to more than 25,000. There is no way that I can interview them all and still come out with a timely book. I have tried to capture as many of the side quests as I can, but by and large I have burned a path from inception to launch, interviewing the key players as I could. The stories I have collected range from the reaction to security breaches on the original Xbox to the genesis of some of the most interesting games for the Xbox 360. But I’ve also tried to stick to the fundamentals of the mission at hand. I follow the Xbox 360 crew on adventures through the Badlands, and am there as they catch glimpses of the Enchanted Kingdom. Some of the sources, such as Bill Gates and Steve Ballmer, could answer only a handful of questions when I had the chance to ask. Microsoft’s PR team provided me with plenty of interviews with executives, but I had to supplement the picture they gave me with additional views. I hope that what emerges is a cross section of the humanity involved in the entire enterprise. No doubt some people will read this work and see stories that are missing. I invite everyone to tell me more, so that I can revise the book in future editions. As Peter Moore told me when it was all done, “All the complexities of doing a global launch are hidden. The incredible sweat, tears, anguish, euphoria.” I hope that this edition brings those behind the 360 into the foreground, if only for a moment, before everyone returns to playing their games.
Acknowledgements
It’s hard to count how many people have helped out with this book. I’d like to thank my wife, my mother the proofreader, my publishers at SpiderWorks Dave Mark, and Dave Woolridge, and my agent David Fugate. SpiderWorks has turned out to be a wonderful partner as a publisher which I highly recommend for its speed and quality. I’ve come to believe that e-books are a disruptive force in publishing, given the flexibility I’ve found with my own publisher. This book would never have happened without the hidden sources that I cannot name. You know who you are! The total number approaches 200 people.
I thank my bosses Donna Alvarado and Todd Woody at the San Jose Mercury News for their generous support. My blog and stories for the San Jose Mercury News have been better for the reporting that has come from the book. I was able to use most of the reporting for the book on my own blog, Dean & Nooch on Gaming, and I have borrowed liberally from both the blog and stories I have done for the newspaper.
Our gaming blog has benefited enormously from loyal blog readers such as SlipStreamBro, Fredo, Jason, Basheron, Bing, and Kidflash. They weighed in on their own insights as only gaming fans can do. Mike Antonucci has been a good sounding board, even if he is a Nintendo fan boy. I appreciate his wisdom that keeps my own fan boy instincts in check. He has a sharp critical eye and isn’t shy about what he likes and dislikes.
Dave Mark did most of the editing and did an outstanding job on it. But volunteer editors who looked at parts of the book include my mother, Nicole Wong, John Boudreau, Therese Poletti, Geoff Keighley, Mike Antonucci, John Taylor, and Jon Peddie.
Melissa Wilson of Edelman tirelessly helped arrange interviews with Microsoft’s team and its partners. Molly O’Donnell coordinated access to Microsoft’s people and helped check facts. This book wouldn’t have happened without them. John Porcaro and Yumi Huh sifted through hundreds of photos to find the ones in this book. The fact checking was an enormous task that had to be done quickly. The help from the PR team is a big reason I have been able to finish on time and I thank them for their efforts. David Hufford and Doug Free assisted as well but there are too many PR folks to name. Edelman’s PR staff, including Denise Gocke, has made my job much easier by arranging for interviews with Microsoft executives on Mercury News stories. I thank the Microsoft Xbox 360 team members who granted me official interviews, including Robbie Bach, J Allard, Peter Moore, Todd Holmdahl, Shane Kim, Mitch Koch, David Reid, Greg Gibson, Ken Lobb, Larry Hyrb, Scott Henson, Aaron Greenberg, Chris Satchell, Laura Fryer, Leslie Leland, Bill Adamec, Barry Spector, Chris Di Cesare, Don Hall, Jonathan Hayes, Larry Yang, Nick Baker, Joe Belfiore, Masoud Foudeh, Peter Birch, Jeff Andrews, Hugh McLoone, Rick Rashid, Jeff Henshaw, Don Coyner, and Greg Canessa. I appreciated the short on-the-record time and unofficial interview time I had with Bill Gates and Steve Ballmer, though most of their comments were pulled from the public record. I also used material from a number of public appearances by Microsoft and industry folks, such as James Miller, Russ Glaser, Paolo Malabuyo, Jen-Hsun Huang, Ken Kutaragi, Neil Young, Roger Perkins, Gareth Wilson and Nolan Bushnell.
A number of journalists, along with many folks at Microsoft’s partners, suppliers, and industry insiders also helped out. Among these are Ed Fries, Brett Lovelady, Larry Probst, Jeff Brown, Trudy Muller, Brian Farrell, Bruno Bonnell, Pat O’Malley, Renee Brotherton, Jim McKusker, Bob Feldstein, Dave Orton, Dave Erskine, Steven Kent, Todd Mowatt, N’gai Croal, Jack Thompson, Leland Yee, David Thomas, Hal Halpin, Tiffany Spencer, Will Wright, Kevin Bachus, Seamus Blackley, Grant Collier, Bobby Kotick, Doug Lowenstein, Jordan Weisman, Jamil Moledina, Sibel Sunar, Tim Sweeney, Mark Rein, Cliff Blezinski, Lorne Lanning, Kevin Krewell, Anita Frazier, Steven Kent, Chris Morris, Jed Lengyel, Alex Seropian, Susan Lusty, Andrew “bunnie” Huang, Greg Zeschuk, Ray Muzyka, Greg Richardson, Darrell Rhea, Garth Chouteau, James Gwertzman, Chris Crotty, Matthew Day, Paul Steed, David Wu Alex St. John, Dennis McCauley, Stuart Moulder, Nam Hyung Kim, Greg Thomas, Scott Steinberg, Todd Hollenshead, Simon Jeffery, Chris Szarek, Dave Demartini, Colin Sebastian, Michael Pachter, Susan Lusty, Richard Doherty, Peter Glaskowsky, Van Baker, P.J. McNealy, Don MacDonald, Ian Bogost, Rob Enderle, Chris Evenden, and Rick Hagen.
Others who offered insights included David Kirk, Dan Vivoli, Marv Burkett, Mike Hara, Derek Perez, Calisa Cole, Reggie Fils-Aime, George Harrison, Perrin Kaplan, Julia Roether, Eileen Tanner, Beth, Llewlyn, Satoru Iwata, Molly Smith, Phil Harrison and Kaz Hirai. Special thanks to Hiko Ikeda for keeping me posted on news events. A load of gamers also helped. They include Mahdi Ashktorab, Shayan Khales, Chris Szarek, Mirik Smit, Josh Sattler, Richard Ouellette, Alfonso Chartier, Timothy Tripp, Bart Rader, Mohamed Ghandour, Sundeep Makhecha, and many others. My thanks to everyone.
Lastly, where I couldn’t get interviews, I used sources from other media and I have acknowledged them in footnotes. I am indebted to all the journalists who share the joy of covering video games on a daily basis.
Prelude
The Microsoft executives were gathered for a review of the Xbox video game business. The numbers reflected the grim losses of going to battle against Sony. The company was losing money, but its online game service was surprisingly strong.
Steve Ballmer,
the CEO of Microsoft, was pounding his fist on the table. “Xbox
Live is awesome! It’s our differentiator.” He believed
Microsoft could beat out its rivals, Sony and Nintendo, with better
online games and entertainment experiences. He hit the table again
and again, shouting, “Xbox Live!” Peter Moore, the new
game marketing guy from Sega, quietly watched Ballmer. Moore was
astonished at the enthusiasm of his bald-headed boss, whose outbursts
were both comical and legendary. Then Ballmer accidentally hit the
Polycom voice conferencing phone on the table. It broke. Ballmer
stopped pounding and looked sheepish. Ed Fries, the head of Microsoft
Game Studios, turned to Moore and said with a smile, “Welcome
to Microsoft.”
Chapter 1
Lessons
Robbie Bach, the Chief Xbox Officer at Microsoft, was beaming as he stepped on stage during Bill Gates’ keynote speech at the Consumer Electronics Show on January 7, 2002. Under the glare of the Las Vegas Hilton spotlights, where Elvis Presley once shook his gyrating hips in hundreds of performances, Bach didn’t look at all like an entertainment mogul. The 6-foot-3-inch man stood rigidly straight in a blazer, as if he were a soldier getting ready to salute. There was no telling that the then-39-year-old Bach had worn a back brace for five years as a teenager to correct the curvature of his backbone. Bach was the kind of man who looked at adversity as a challenge. Whether it was playing collegiate tennis with a brace; engaging in bruising basketball games at 5 am at the Pro Sports Club in Bellevue, Washington, with Microsoft CEO Steve Ballmer; or leading the fierce charge against the rivals of Microsoft’s Office software, he always played to win. And most of the time he did. 1
Gates surrendered the stage. Bach was exultant. He talked about how Microsoft had sold 1.5 million Xbox video game consoles during the last six weeks of 2001. The 9/11 terrorist attacks had not dampened the holiday buying spirit in the United States. Bach smiled as he recounted a conversation in which film director Ron Howard told Jay Leno that he just couldn’t get his son to stop playing the Xbox. The game console had buzz – that critical word-of-mouth marketing, vital to success in games. The Xbox had the brand, the positioning, and the image that it needed to distinguish itself from its rivals and stay in the game for the long term. Microsoft was preparing to launch it in Japan in February and in Europe in March.
Jonathan “Seamus” Blackley joined Bach on stage to show off Sega’s Jet Set Radio Future game. Bach preferred his battles in the court or the boardroom. He never had the thumb coordination to be a gamer. If he played at all, it was the relatively cerebral Age of Empires strategy games that Microsoft published for the PC. Blackley, on the other hand, was a game fan in the extreme. He was the kind of guy who loved mashing buttons in the mano-a-mano tests of machismo fighting games. He was one of the four original instigators of the Xbox, and had a reputation among game developers as being cool and in the know. Normally graceful under pressure, Blackley choked on the game as he went sliding off the rails while attempting to ride a skateboard on a rollercoaster. That ended the demo early. “All right, that’s enough from Seamus, the game expert,” Blackley cracked in self-deprecation. “Unable to stay on the rail.”
They showed a comic video that demonstrated how online gaming would work on Xbox Live, where gamers could play against each other on the couch or across the Internet. The punch line was that a little girl in a living room could project a menacing image and wipe out burly brutes in a game of online football. It was done in goofy Microsoft style, with a shrimpy kid masquerading as someone with a deep voice.
It was funny, and Bach took the spotlight again to bring the talk full circle to the business view. Microsoft, once again embarrassingly late to a strategic market, was aiming its corporate firepower at video games because of the industry’s central position in the emergence of digital entertainment. Bach made the point that video game revenues had exceeded the movie box office receipts in the U.S. The message was clear. Microsoft was in the video game business to stay. Since Microsoft and its publishers had sold more than three games for every box, the company had generated sales estimated at $750 million for the six weeks before the end of the year. That in itself was a remarkable achievement.
After the speech was over, several thousand people shuffled out of the auditorium. The guys from Redmond felt it was time for a victory lap. Bach’s presence meant that the Xbox, which began with all the attitude of a start-up, had gone corporate. But Blackley was there to recall the project’s renegade roots. Bach was the quintessential big company Microsoft insider, and Blackley, the ultimate game industry fanatic. Without both to balance each other out, the Xbox wouldn’t have been conceived as an audacious plan to rule the universe or been funded as a major corporate initiative. They didn’t know it at the time, but it was one of their last chances to be together as a single unified team. As one of Blackley’s heroes, World War II general George S. Patton, said, “All glory is fleeting.”
---------------------
Success
is a relative thing. Sony had launched its PlayStation 2 console in
Japan in March, 2000, about 20 months ahead of Microsoft. By the end
of 2001, it had sold more than 25 million consoles worldwide.
Microsoft was late, even by its own standards. The company had
entered into fruitless negotiations to buy Sega and Nintendo.
“What do you get if you buy Nintendo for $5 billion,” Steve Ballmer, CEO of Microsoft, said in an interview later. “The assets walk out the door everyday.”
It had taken so long to decide which vendors to pick that it didn’t give them enough time to get their vital engineering work done, nor did it give game developers enough time to make games. Nvidia didn’t sign its contract for the graphics chip until just before the Game Developers Conference in March, 2000. The schedule gave it barely a year to combine a couple of different chips into one. Nvidia usually took about 18 months to two years to complete such a project. It might have finished on time, were it not for a bug in a power supply that kept its engineers puzzled for weeks. The company finished the chip late, and when it handed its designs over to Flextronics, the contract manufacturer wasn’t ready to begin. The manufacturing database wasn’t big enough to keep track of all of the components, and Flextronics had to retool its software. Manufacturing didn’t begin until September, just weeks before the launch. Microsoft pushed the U.S. launch back by a week, and it had already delayed the rollout in Japan and Europe until 2002. So much for the original plan to launch worldwide simultaneously. So much for instantaneous world domination. No console maker had ever pulled off a worldwide launch before, and now Microsoft knew why.
A few months later, at the E3 Expo in Los Angeles, Kaz Hirai, president of Sony’s U.S. game division, got up on stage and primped. “The console wars are over,” he declared. Satoru Iwata, CEO of Nintendo, thought it was “an arrogant thing to say.” But Hirai’s blustering proved right. Neither Microsoft nor Nintendo ever caught up to Sony’s head start. The PS2 had the biggest number of consoles in the market, and that meant that game developers had the widest possible market if they published on the PS2. Feeding on this “network effect,” the game developers had gravitated to Sony’s machine because it offered the chance for the biggest sales, and the fans would soon follow.
Clearly, the company that got into the market first with a next-generation machine had a huge leg up and the lead was theirs to lose. The PlayStation 2, however, had been considered late itself, when compared to Sega’s Dreamcast. But Sony managed to blunt the acceptance of the decidedly under-powered Dreamcast. It announced its specifications early and convinced gamers that it was worth waiting for the better PS2. Electronic Arts decided not to support Sega, throwing all of its weight behind the PS2. The vaporware strategy – aimed at wowing customers with fancy demos so they would wait to purchase – dampened demand for the Dreamcast. Sega ultimately threw in the towel and became a game software company.
By the middle of 2005, the scorecard was clear. Microsoft had sold 22 million Xboxes. Nintendo had sold about 20 million GameCubes. But Sony had sold about 90 million PS2s. Game developers like RockStar Games had seen the wisdom of launching their best titles, such as Grand Theft Auto: Vice City and Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, exclusively for the PS2. Also, the PS2 had extra circuitry in it that made it capable of running original PlayStation games. That kept Sony’s momentum going and it kept the lead, except for a short period when it had to deal with manufacturing glitches. As publisher support for the GameCube dried up, Nintendo slipped further behind. By the end of 2005, Sony held 55 percent of the U.S. market, Microsoft held 24 percent and Nintendo held just 15 percent. And on a worldwide basis, Sony had sold three of every four consoles in Europe and four of every five in Japan.
Part of the reason for this lopsided market share was Microsoft’s disastrous debut in Japan, where it sold less than 500,000 consoles in the first four years. It was the place where the gang from Redmond couldn’t shoot straight. Its game plan was lost in translation. Literally. Some Japanese developers submitted their code to Microsoft and they got indecipherable reports back in English. 2
Microsoft had started out with representatives in Japan who spoke Japanese but didn’t truly understand the games business, its traditions, or its movers and shakers. Japan was the cradle of video games, and Japanese gamers had very distinct tastes. And here was this gaijin, or foreigner, coming in uninvited. Despite these obstacles, Microsoft was able to win over some key developers such as Tecmo, makers of the Dead or Alive martial-arts games. But overall in Japan, Microsoft went down in flames.
It wasn’t for lack of effort. Microsoft hired Toshiyuki Miyata, a former Sony studio chief, to run the Microsoft internal game studio in Tokyo. The American company wanted a Japanese insider to lend respect to its efforts to create games for the Japanese fans. But Microsoft didn’t pour a lot of money into the Japanese studio, and the majority of Japan’s game publishers stayed loyal to Sony. Microsoft wasn’t ready for its February, 2002, launch in Japan. Halo, its top-selling game in the U.S., wasn’t completed yet for Japan, in part because it hadn’t planned on adapting the game to Japanese audiences. Besides, Japanese gamers didn’t like “first-person shooter” games. They liked story-based games, such as the Final Fantasy series of role-playing games, and other titles with similarly cute characters. Because Microsoft failed in an attempt to buy Final Fantasy maker Square outright, and because it couldn’t convince Square to invest in Xbox games, the Final Fantasy franchise was still exclusive to the PlayStation 2. A total of 12 Xbox games were ready, including samurai swordsman game Genma Onimusha and Project Gotham Racing. But there was no blockbuster.
Then there was the ill-conceived game controller for the original Xbox. The initial design was too big for the smaller hands of many Japanese gamers, so the company had to go through an embarrassing redesign of the controller for the actual Japanese launch. Microsoft had assumed that the design it had created for U.S. gamers was going to work worldwide. The box was also enormous. It was about the size of an old video cassette recorder. Peter Moore, a former Sega marketing executive who joined Microsoft, joked it was so big “it couldn’t fit through the doorway in most Japanese homes.” For laughs, he showed a picture to industry executives depicting a giant Xbox atop a construction mover to hammer home the point about how big it was.
“Xbox was the Humvee of consoles,” he joked.
In spite of these missteps, the launch in Japan started well enough. The Xbox was priced at the equivalent of $263, or 34,800 yen, about 5,000 yen more than a PS2. A limited edition model, which came with a remote control for watching DVD movies and a serial-numbered key holder autographed by Bill Gates, was available for $300. At a 7 am launch at a Tsutaya video rental store in the trendy Shibuya district of Tokyo, Gates handed over an Xbox to Atsushi Ishizaka, one of 300 people who had lined up the buy the console on the previous night. “I am so honored,” the 22-year-old student proclaimed. Microsoft had set aside 250,000 units for the launch. But then the curse of the gaijin hit. Within days, Japanese fans began to complain that the machine would scratch their DVD game disks, leaving them playable but visibly marred on the outer rim of the disk’s bottom. At first, the company argued with its customers, saying that the disks still functioned perfectly. Retailers were aghast and some decided to stop selling the machine. In early March, more than two weeks after the complaints arose, the company had to offer free replacements and apologize. Game sites started calling the incident “scratch gate,” and sales never recovered from the quality gaffe. Four years later, Bach admitted during a meeting with financial analysts, “We’re not even on the track right now. I mean, no, really we sell literally hundreds a week maybe. I mean the Japanese business has not been successful. We’ve not done well there.”
In Europe, Microsoft did better, but not better than Sony. Sales in the United Kingdom were strong, but they fell short elsewhere. Microsoft made the mistake of pricing the box in the new Euro currency so that it was the same in every country, even though the value of the Euro hadn’t yet equalized across Europe. The price came out to an equivalent of $419. By April, just a month after the launch, Microsoft had to cut the price on the Xbox in Europe to the equivalent of $266.
Then there was the issue of costs. Microsoft had burdened every machine with an expensive hard drive, whereas a drive was an option on the PS2. Every machine that Microsoft sold at $300 ended up losing an estimated $125. This was a byproduct of rushing into the market with off-the-shelf PC parts. These parts were already cost reduced and they allowed Microsoft to enter the market with better quality graphics than Sony could offer. But Microsoft couldn’t get the manufacturers to keep reducing component costs. The hard drive, for instance, started at a cost of about $50 but didn’t decline in cost all that much. Storing eight gigabytes of data, the hard drive was already at a rock-bottom single platter and single spindle, the barest components of a hard drive. Typically, hard disk drive makers kept the prices of their drives the same. They just offered more and more storage on each disk. But for Microsoft, that didn’t help. It had to keep the components in the machine the same so that game developers could have a consistent platform to target.
In short, the Xbox sucked money out of Microsoft’s coffers as if it were a sink hole. Microsoft didn’t disclose precise numbers, but it did break out losses for the Home and Entertainment Group (Xbox was the biggest part of this group, but it also included home consumer products, TV software, and PC games). Microsoft lost $2.6 billion in this group from June 2002 to June 2005. Insiders believed the total losses for the Xbox were $3.7 billion. That was a staggering $168 per box for a machine that started out at $299 when it debuted. Those numbers are not precise, but analysts believe they are in the right ballpark. This was worse than the nightmare scenarios when it started planning the Xbox in 1999. On Sept. 29, 1999, Rick Thompson, then the vice president in charge of the project, warned Bill Gates in a meeting about the risks he was taking.
“If you do this, you will lose $900 million over eight years,” Thompson said, as he delivered a PowerPoint slide deck entitled “Hail Mary.”
Thompson went on to say that if Microsoft were forced to match aggressive price cuts by Sony over time, the Xbox project was going to lose $3.3 billion over the same period.
Those numbers were the best guesses the company had at the time. They were revised later on. But they were the numbers that Gates used to decide whether to go forward with the project. Gates felt it was worth the risk to stop a big threat from Sony and to open a new avenue for Microsoft’s products in the home. The Xbox was the key to creating a second “pillar” of Microsoft software. This one would rule the home, while Microsoft’s Office software ruled the work place. This battle was going to play out over two decades, and Microsoft needed more than the PC to win it. Gates was willing to make a big bet in order enter the video game business.
The public knew what kind of gamble Microsoft was taking as well. In March, 2001, analyst Henry Blodgett of Merrill Lynch predicted that Microsoft would lose $2 billion on the Xbox before turning a profit in fiscal 2005. His assessment was overly optimistic. Video games operated on the razor and razor blade model. You lost money on the razors, and made money on the blades. Microsoft lost money on the Xbox in hopes of making money on the games. If the model didn’t work, the consequences could be catastrophic. The tie ratio, or the number of games sold per box, was the key measure of success. That’s where Sony left Microsoft behind.
Worse, hackers had cracked the security in the Xbox. They figured out how to modify the machines and turn them into cheap computers or load hard disks full of pirated games. That was the same problem that helped doom Sega’s Dreamcast. Microsoft stood to lose a considerable amount of money as the hackers bought the hardware with no intention of helping Microsoft making the razor and razor blades model work. 3
On the matter of losing money, there was a split between Gates and Steve Ballmer, who became CEO in January, 2000, four months after the Hail Mary presentation. Ballmer was responsible for Microsoft’s financial performance, so he looked at the Xbox from the perspective of the balance sheet. Over time, he wanted the Xbox to win, but not at any cost. He had a lot of battles to fight on a lot of different fronts, and he wasn’t willing to flush all of Microsoft’s resources on one project. He bore down on the Xbox team to improve its bottom line. While the Xbox advocates argued that a hard disk drive was a necessary feature to woo skeptical gamers to Microsoft’s side, Ballmer looked at the cold financial numbers. Several years later, Ballmer had to admit, “Putting the hard drive in there was a bad business decision. It cost more but didn’t allow us to charge a premium in the market.” He meant that the hard drive’s advantages weren’t so overwhelming that gamers would pay more for Xbox hardware or games. But Ballmer had to attend to his dying father, so he had less say than Gates at the time.
The more machines Microsoft sold, the deeper the losses got. That was OK for a company that had tens of billions of dollars in cash, thanks to its Windows franchise on the PC. But it was embarrassing to take that money from PC owners and donate it back to gamers. At its heart, Microsoft’s leaders were business professionals. They knew they had to stop Sony from taking over the living room. Everyone was forecasting that someone would make a mint in the living room, providing consumers with digital entertainment devices. These devices would be a byproduct of the convergence of consumer electronics, computing, and communications and serve as portals into an unlimited world of entertainment choices on the Internet. Whoever controlled the gateway to the living room would dominate digital entertainment, and boxes such as game consoles were viewed as Trojan horses. They would enter the home as game consoles, but eventually be used as digital entertainment gateways. Microsoft had to stop Sony. The Japanese company had boasted that the console would supplant the PC as the gateway to the living room, making a direct connection to consumers and their wallets.
The Xbox was a publicly unspoken attempt to destroy Sony’s biggest profit source. But Microsoft’s executives knew that the Xbox business had to be sustainable in the long run in order to escape the fate of so many of Microsoft’s other ill-advised expansion efforts, such as WebTV, the failed effort to make an interactive TV set-top box that could be used to browse the web and read e-mail. Sony, meanwhile, kept the pressure on, periodically redesigning its box to lower costs and then cutting prices. Over the years, the losses would build up into the billions of dollars. Costs became such a concern that Microsoft’s contract manufacturer, Flextronics, had to dismantle its factory in Hungary and move it to China.
In contrast to Ballmer, Robbie Bach shrugged off the losses. In an e-mail to his staff on Nov. 14, 2001, Bach said it was “mind boggling” that Microsoft was able to accomplish all that it had in less than two years, all from a standing start. He wasn’t going to rest until Xbox was a “central part of the interactive entertainment landscape.”
“We knew going in that this was going to be one of those 10-year, 15-year type projects, not something in the market for two years and all of a sudden you’ll have a big success,” he said. 4
In the end, the Xbox’s failure to defeat the PlayStation 2 was all about the games. Microsoft could have overcome all of these handicaps if it had the games that gamers wanted. Halo was its first game to top one million units sold. It was a fine accomplishment, and the game development team at Bungie had done an excellent job converting the shooting game from the PC to the console. Taking aim with a controller was never easy compared to shooting with a mouse, but Bungie had done it. And it had created a balanced game with an intriguing storyline and a heart-pounding, haunting musical score.
But Halo wasn’t enough to overcome the wave after wave of good games debuting on the PlayStation 2. There weren’t enough new games coming out for the Xbox. Electronic Arts had supported the Xbox, but not as wholeheartedly as it did the PS2. Some of the cool titles that Microsoft had touted, like Peter Molyneux’s Fable, were nowhere in sight. In many respects, Microsoft had out-maneuvered Nintendo on a variety of games, but the Japanese company could always pull out a well-known franchise such as Mario or Zelda to get gamers frothing. And Nintendo had locked up the kids market with its cute characters, and it held a virtual monopoly on the handheld market.
The Grand Theft Auto series, exclusive to the PlayStation 2 for a long time, along with the Gran Turismo racing game, sealed Sony’s dominance of the top selling games list. This doomed Microsoft to a battle with Nintendo for second place. And, thanks to its near-monopoly on portable games, Nintendo was making a lot of money, while Microsoft was losing billions of dollars. For Sony, the business model of razors and razor blades – in which the company lost money on the console but made up for it through software and accessory sales – was golden. It was much closer to breaking even on its console at all times than Microsoft was, and it could afford to make big bets on games. Microsoft could only assume it would have 20 million or so customers at the most. But Sony could plan for about 100 million customers. That meant that Sony could afford to give a big advance to a game developer to make a game into a PS2 exclusive. It knew that royalties on selling games would pay off in the end, considering that many of the top games sold far more units because of the huge installed base of the PS2. Microsoft, with a smaller installed based, couldn’t afford to outbid Sony on many exclusives, because the business case never justified big advances. Sony had a network effect going where one customer led to another, and the logical end of that process was monopoly power. Microsoft was the little guy in this fight.
Some things had gone right for Redmond, though. Microsoft, for once, had come into the market as the good guy. It was earning credibility as the company that could break the grip of the Japanese giants, winning over fans with its considerations for gamers and developers. It was the underdog, yet it had the power to upset the status quo. Those who hated Microsoft’s monopolistic practices in software couldn’t criticize it in the game arena. And that translated into a positive brand image. For the first time in years, Microsoft had introduced a product that made it seem like the coolest of companies. And Microsoft game managers such as Bungie’s Pete Parsons could speak about “world domination” without spurring an antitrust suit. Seamus Blackley’s passion was one of the key reasons that Microsoft was perceived in this way.
Microsoft had taken the market share that Sega once held in consoles which, in the Dreamcast generation, was about 15 percent. Not only that, it had even surpassed Nintendo’s market share in the low 20s. With its first console, Microsoft had edged out a company that had been in the games business for decades. Halo 2 sold 2.4 million units in its first 24 hours when it went on sale in November, 2004. That generated cash register receipts in the U.S. and Canada of $125 million, which Microsoft claimed was a record-breaking day for any kind of entertainment. Microsoft had its first quarterly profit in its Xbox division in the quarter that ended Dec. 31, 2004, thanks to the launch of Halo 2. Analysts were projecting that Halo 2 would top 10 million units sold, or more than $500 million in retail sales. Halo 2 drove subscriptions to Xbox Live, which charged $50 a year, to a record 2 million. The hours played on Xbox Live exceeded 1.4 billion. Sales of Peter Molyneux’s Fable also topped a million units. That helped Microsoft narrow the losses for the Home and Entertainment Group in fiscal 2005 to a mere $391 million.
“If you think about what we did with Xbox Live, Halo 2, Fable, and console sales, 2004 was a great year for us,” Bach said.5 “We grew share. We produced some great products; we had the No. 1 day in entertainment history with Halo 2. It is tough for me not to include ourselves on the list of people who had a good year.”
Xbox Live, Microsoft’s online gaming service that debuted in 2002, made possible the new careers of professional gamers such as Alfonso “Fonzi” Chartier, a 19-year-old Palo Alto student in his second year at Santa Clara University. He and three friends were part of Trademark Gamers, a sponsored team that specialized in Halo 2 online multiplayer tournaments. They did a circuit of 13 tournaments during the year, winning the two tournaments in which they all played together as a team. The team traveled across the states, all expenses paid. They made it to the finals of the World Cyber Games U.S. national finals, but placed third at the big finale in New York City. Chartier was studying computer science, but two of his buddies, 18-year-old Tom “MLG Tsquared” Taylor of Jupiter, Fla., and 21-year-old Matt “Zyos” Leto of Dallas, Texas, planned to play video games professionally. The TV show MTV True Life was doing a documentary on them. They were practicing on Xbox Live about 25 to 40 hours a week. They were getting dozens of messages a day from players who wanted to challenge them or learn some tips. After a while, they started a web site where fans could arrange to play games with challengers for a fee. After the site went up, they were booking $1,500 in lessons a weekend. None of these guys were PC gamers. They had been hooked on the Xbox. Nearly a year after Halo 2 launched, they were still playing game competitively.
“It’s the No. 1 cooperative game,” Chartier said in an interview over Xbox Live’s voice over the Internet communicator. “It’s a thinking game. I played single player once and then forgot about it after I went online.”
There were more than 400,000 clans that gathered on a daily or weekly basis to scrimmage with Halo 2. Full told, there were two million paying subscribers for Xbox Live, a number that had doubled since the previous year. This passion was why Bach had committed to spending $2 billion on Xbox Live over a number of years.
Sony had held on to two thirds of the market with the PlayStation 2, but it had no such following for its online games. While Microsoft managed the online game infrastructure, Sony left that chore to the game publishers, with haphazard results. It faced severe pressures from Microsoft’s attack on its key profit maker. On two occasions during 2004, Sony made the mistake of not having enough PS2s on the shelves. In March, 2004, Microsoft cut the price of the Xbox by $30 to $149. It took until May for Sony to match the price cut, and by that time, a lot of damage was done. The price cut enabled Microsoft to double its Xbox sales in April, 2004. For one month, Microsoft even had the largest market share in North America. Then, again, in the fall of 2004, Sony ran short on PS2s as it transitioned from the older PS2s to a smaller, slimmed down design. The so-called “PS2 Slim” machines were nominally priced at $150, but by the end of November in 2004, they were selling on eBay for $230. Microsoft kept its stores fully stocked during the time, allowing it to gain market share and reduce its losses. In 2004, Sony sold 4.6 million units in the U.S., a number lower than the year before, while Microsoft sold 4 million Xboxes, according to the NPD Group. Microsoft made a million extra units beyond its plan, but it stopped short on the production because it was losing so much on every box. It didn’t want to make the red ink spin out of control. The setback for Sony showed what happens when you are racing Bill Gates and you take your hands off the steering wheel.
J Allard, general manager for the Xbox platform, said in a message to his troops at the beginning of 2003, “If I needed to pick an introductory quote for the ‘History of the Xbox,’ I’d choose the following words spoken by Gandhi: ‘First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.’”
Allard added, “It’s a very relevant quote to Sony’s attitude towards us in the console market. As we built the plan and started talking to partners in 1999, Sony wouldn’t even comment or engage in the discussions. After we announced the plan publicly around the world and for the first couple of E3s (trade shows), Sony scoffed with the attitude that we would never be serious enough to do what it took and took a lot of cheap shots. Even at the launch, they acted as if they really didn’t believe that we were serious and to the extent that they used any tactics with the press or retail, they were very cavalier.”
“Today,
it’s pretty clear that they know we’re here for real and
are serious about the business. They are clearly reacting to the
success and leadership we’ve demonstrated with Xbox Live. They
are hard at work to hold us off at retail. As examples of this,
witness (their move to) broadband-only in Europe; the late addition
of voice support in U.S. Navy Seals: SOCOM; the money they are
pouring towards third parties to hold up titles from simultaneous
shipping; the advertising they are throwing at TV. It would be crazy
to say that we have them on their heels or in a corner, but it’s
evident that they are feeling serious pressure from us and are trying
to defend their installed-base lead. This holiday, we landed a couple
of punches that have made them a little dizzy.”
Sony’s
mistakes were relatively minor ones, but they were execution mistakes
– enough to give Microsoft a chance to catch up. And they
probably cost Ken Kutaragi, the tough-talking boss of Sony’s
game division, his chance to be the CEO of all of Sony. In March,
2005, Sony’s two top executives resigned and the board
appointed Howard Stringer, a gaijin, or foreigner, to head the
Japanese consumer electronics giant. It was the first time an
outsider had ever held the top post at Sony. It was an indication
that Microsoft had rattled Sony. Stringer was an affable cost cutter
who brought Sony’s music and movie business back to life. He
was viewed as an inspirational leader, while Kutaragi had developed a
reputation as prickly. Nobuyuki Idei, the departing CEO of Sony, even
criticized Kutaragi as not being a good listener when asked why
Kutaragi didn’t get the job. Stringer went on to announce a
$1.8 billion restructuring and 10,000 job cuts. Microsoft, by
contrast, had given tens of billions of dollars in excess cash to its
shareholders – and still had $37 billion left in its coffers.
It was more than enough money to buy every single independent game
company.
Sony and Microsoft look at each other as formidable
competitors,” said Larry Probst, CEO of Electronic Arts, the
biggest independent game publisher. “”It’s a battle
to the death.”
Microsoft had hurt a big rival. Nintendo
was still making money, but not as much as it once had. But in the
big picture, it isn’t clear that Microsoft took aim at the
right competitors when it moved into the game business. It had to pay
out billions of dollars in antitrust settlements. And while Sony was
hurting, Microsoft was clearly falling behind other rivals. The
Internet companies – Amazon.com, Yahoo!, Google, and eBay –
took off as a group as broadband penetration created new demand for
online services. Microsoft’s competing services were falling
behind on most of these fronts. And Apple Computer cleaned up in
digital music with the launch of the iPod. While Microsoft was
successful, to a degree, in holding back its rivals in games, it had
a lot of holes in its defenses elsewhere.
Still, Microsoft had
the appetite and the war chest to go another round with Sony. That
big cushion of cash was insurance for whatever losses the Xbox
suffered as it experimented with business plans.
“Can
we get to No. 1?” Ballmer said. “Yes, I think so. We have
to have great products.” 6
Microsoft was maneuvering to
gain what it called “thought leadership,” where it
dominated the industry chatter if not the market itself, as it went
through its gaming training mission. And the gains against Sony,
though small and late in the season, kept the Xbox team going. That’s
why Bill Gates, in an interview with Time magazine, laughed and said,
“The first generation, it’s just like a video game. If
you play perfectly, at the end, it says, ‘You get to play
again.’ That’s all it says!” Gates cracks up at his
own joke. “You put your hand in the till. There’s no
quarter down there. There’s no, like, even tickets to buy funny
dolls or anything. It’s just, Hey, play again.”6
1.
Business Week, “Robbie Bach is Ready To Rumble,” by Jay
Greene, Nov. 28, 2005
2. “Risk 360,” 360 magazine,
February, 2005, p. 48.
3. “Hacking the Xbox: An
Introduction to Reverse Engineering,” by Andrew “bunnie”
Huang, No Starch Press 2003, p. 3
4. “Robbie Bach: New
York Times Breakfast With Microsoft,” Churchill Club interview
by John Markoff, April 27, 2005
5. IDG Industry White Paper:
“And They’re Off,” September, 2005
6. “Out
of the Xbox,” by Lev Grossman, Time, May 23, 2005
Chapter 2
Games Fail To Win The Culture War
Not only did Microsoft fail to dislodge Sony, but the company also fell short of the larger ambitions that inspired so many of the talented artists of the game industry to join in its crusade. It is worth remembering the words of Ed Fries, who ran Microsoft Game Studios from 1995 through 2003. The Xbox division truly wanted to change the world. Fries had made a big prediction at Microsoft’s Gamestock event in Seattle in 2001, where he first showed off games for the Xbox. He promised that the game industry was ready to “leave the cartoon world behind.” Some of what he said was prescient. He had been right that the epic battle between the three gaming giants was driving innovation, much like the space race, at a very fast pace. He had challenged his colleagues to offer more than mindless entertainment.
“A great book, a great movie, a great play, they are about more than just killing time,” he said, holding his audience of game journalists spellbound. “We need to reach out to our audience. We need to create things that are relevant to them. We need to change how they view the world. We ask the wrong questions. What kind of game is this? We should be starting to ask, ‘What are you trying to say with this game?’ What do you want it to mean to the people who play it? What I’m saying is, we need to create not just entertainment. We need to create art. I think that is the goal of all the other forms of media. It’s really the only way to advance to where we want to get. If we take that seriously, if we focus on making art, not just entertainment, then I think for the first time we’ll deserve to speak to the mass audience and inherit our rightful place as the future of all entertainment.”
A few years later, Fries was no longer the chief at the game studios. He had quit because he didn’t get to run the studio autonomously, not because gaming had failed to become an art form. Microsoft was disappointed that the original Xbox didn’t become even more of a cultural force than it was. It had not succeeded in truly changing cultural attitudes about games. The prediction that Fries made in his speech did not really come true. Fries’ words inspired artists to dedicate themselves to the large cause. The console makers were spending billions to grab a bigger share of entertainment dollars and a bigger share of the time that consumers dedicated to leisure. They said that the true competitors weren’t the other video game companies. The competition was mass market TV – shows like American Idol that were vying for the same eyeballs. The “war for the eyeballs” that Intel CEO Andy Grove had predicted so many years before was finally coming to be. Microsoft and its competitors had promised that they would expand gaming as a mass media. Harkening back to the first advertisement that Electronics Arts created upon its founding in 1982, the game creators were going to produce games that could make you cry. They were going to enthrall the women and girls who had heretofore failed to get excited over testosterone-based games. Forget the similar broken promises of 3DO, Rocket Science, and convergence with Hollywood. Games were not just for geeks anymore. They had the potential to draw in everyone, like the mass appeal of Will Wright’s family simulation game, The Sims, which was on its way to selling tens of millions of units, raking in revenues like a movie blockbuster. Worldwide, the various versions of The Sims franchise had sold more than 58 million copies by 2005. Gabe Newell, the CEO of Valve LLC in Kirkland, Wash., noted that his company’s statistics showed that gamers spent several billion minutes a month playing Counter-Strike online – which was more than the time people had spent watching Friends on TV before the show ended.
The market research companies were frothing at the idea of Gaming Uber Alles. Forrester Research predicted that the video game industry would triple from 2000 to 2005. International Data Corp. predicted that the percentage of households with video game consoles would double from 35 percent to 75 percent. Gaming was coalescing into a massive audience, as about 80 percent of kids played games. Over time, all the non-gamers were going to die off. And, based on the predictions in 2000, it seemed like all of those non-gamers would die off in the next five years, or convert to gaming.
It didn’t happen. Doug Lowenstein, president of the Entertainment Software Association and the man who is paid to be the industry’s biggest booster, had to bring everybody down to earth in his keynote speech at E3 in May 2005.
“How many of you of you have written at any time that the video game industry is bigger than Hollywood, or have heard someone in the industry make such a claim?” Lowenstein asked. “Let’s set the record straight once and for all: it is simply not true – yet. It has never been true. Yes, when you add video game hardware sales and software sales together, you come up with a figure which exceeds the total box office take of the film industry. But including hardware sales in the figure skews the comparison. Why not include the sales of DVD players? And even if you think it is valid to include console, handheld, and related hardware sales in the calculation, it fails to account for the streams of additional revenue produced by Hollywood, from DVD and videotape rental and sales to syndication of films for broadcast and cable TV. In truth, the worldwide film industry stands at about $45 billion and the worldwide video game industry checks in at $28 billion.” (Lowenstein had guessed low on the film industry, as others put the number well above $50 billion). Parts of the world were coming on strong. But Japan was in decline.
So this was the reality check. Four years had gone by, and the Xbox had not conquered all. Many mass market consumers still considered games the domain of geeks, or social misfits who had nothing better to do than to toil away in virtual dungeons. A good movie could garner an audience of a billion people. The real mass market was movies. In a good year, the movies could generate 1.6 billion individual ticket purchases at the theaters in the U.S., according to Exhibitor Relations. That was far above the number of gamers who played religiously every week. Not even Sony had vaulted the game industry to its desired goal of supplanting the movie industry. Microsoft had hoped that favorable demographics, the rise of gaming in youth culture, the pervasive spread to all corners of the globe, the creation of incredible games – all these factors were going to propel it to the top of the heap in video games. A rising tide of video games was supposed to lift all boats, even for the second and third place companies that couldn’t overtake the leader. The game business was still cyclical.