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Don't Just Do Something, Stand

There!

Sony’s $1,500 pet robot is virtually useless—which explains

why it’s such a big hit.

by Youngme Moon

Youngme Moon is an associate professor of marketing at Harvard Business School in Boston.

Sony managers had a problem. Racing to beat competitors to market, the electronics giant had spent tens of

millions of dollars developing its first household robot. But building a personal robot that could do anything

useful proved daunting, and Sony’s prototypes were buggy and unpredictable. How could the company establish

a foothold in this nascent market without losing its shirt—or worse, becoming a laughingstock?

AIBO’s lack of obedience was an idiosyncratic

display of “attitude.”

The answer, it turned out, was not to obsess about perfecting the technology. Early on, company managers

recognized that consumers would immediately categorize, or “frame,” any product that reminded them of a

Hollywood movie robot as, well, a robot. If it looked like C-3PO, consumers would expect it to act like C-3PO.

And they would be sorely disappointed if it didn’t measure up. So Sony made a conscious decision to manipulate

the framing of its product and turn the robot’s shortcomings into attributes. Rather than develop a household

helper that would fall disastrously short of expectations, Sony realized it could create an entertaining and lovable

pet that no one would expect to be useful. “We had lots of arguments about whether AIBO should do something

or not,” one Sony manager told me. “But in the end, we all agreed: AIBO loves you, you love AIBO, and that’s

it.”

Accordingly, the first-generation AIBO didn’t do much, and what little functionality it had was erratic. While the

doglike AIBO could negotiate obstacles and respond to some commands, for example, it didn’t always do what it

was told. But Sony cleverly marketed the creature as an entertainment robot with a personality of its own.

According to the company, AIBO’s lack of obedience was an idiosyncratic display of “attitude.” The reality was

that AIBO’s voice recognition was unreliable, so sometimes the product simply didn’t work.

Framing AIBO as a pet enabled Sony to get the biggest bang out of minimal functionality. The company was able

to successfully introduce robotic technology into people’s homes and position itself as the category leader for the

future. In the process, Sony created public excitement about household robots and generated internal

momentum to drive the product’s development. Because customers were forgiving of AIBO’s quirks, the

company had tremendous leeway to tinker with its technology. Categorizing the robot as a pet also helped Sony

attract lead consumers who were more demographically and psychographically diverse—ranging from the elderly

to very young children—than typical technology early adopters. And, by putting its imperfect technology out into

the marketplace, Sony had the opportunity to gather invaluable consumer feedback to help guide continued

development.

Take Baby Steps

Sony has sold more than 130,000 AIBOs since the product launched in 1999. Last September, Sony released its

third-generation AIBO, and the company is now prototyping a little humanoid that can walk and talk, recognize

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Harvard Business Review Online | Don't Just Do Something, Stand There!

voices and faces, and stream video from its camera to your PC. The QRIO (pronounced “curio”) looks and acts

more like a Hollywood robot than AIBO ever did. But once again, Sony is carefully managing the new robot’s

framing to ensure that when QRIO is released, consumers won’t expect much utility. Highly mobile and just two

feet tall, QRIO suggests, if anything, a playful child. And, like its canine predecessor, QRIO does little that’s

really useful. As the promotional text on Sony’s Web site explains, “QRIO’s dreams are limitless. But one is

clear: to make your life fun and happy.”

Contrast Sony’s robot development strategy with Honda’s. Both companies share the same long-term vision: to

develop practical household robots. But Honda has nothing marketable to show for the 15 years and $100

million it has spent perfecting its prototype, ASIMO, an android that’s clearly designed—and framed—to imply

usefulness. At twice QRIO’s size, the anthropomorphic ASIMO conspicuously evokes the Hollywood ideal, and

Honda touts its “unprecedented humanlike abilities.” But ASIMO is not for sale. The robot does little more than

walk, and even the simplest household tasks are beyond its capabilities. Nonetheless, Honda is aggressively

positioning itself as a player. The company has run television spots featuring ASIMO, and its print ads in

magazines promise that “one day, ASIMO could be quite useful in some very important tasks, like assisting the

elderly and even helping with household chores.” No wonder Honda has no immediate plans to market ASIMO.

By publicly committing itself to delivering a truly useful robot, the company has created consumer expectations

that—for now, at least—will be hard to meet.

The strategy boils down to knowing the

difference between what the product is and

what consumers expect it to be.

Reframe the Frame

AIBO’s success shows the pivotal role of framing in marketing discontinuous innovations for consumers. If

managers want mainstream customers to embrace a new technology, they need to establish the most effective

frame early in the development process and commit to it. The strategy boils down to knowing the difference

between what the product is and what consumers expect it to be. If customers think your robot is a pet, all the

better for them—and for you—while you perfect the technology.

Reprint Number F0403A

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