July 2009

The Segway hasn't delivered on its initial promise, to put it mildly.

There are several reasons why, but one is that people don't want to be seen riding them.

Someone riding a Segway looks like a dork.

The Segway hasn't delivered. One reason: someone riding one looks like a dork.

The Segway flopped partly because people don't want to be seen on one.

My friend Trevor Blackwell built his own Segway, which we called the Segwell.

He also built a one-wheeled version, the Eunicycle, which looks exactly like a regular unicycle till you realize the rider isn't pedaling.

He has ridden them both to downtown Mountain View to get coffee.

When he rides the Eunicycle, people smile at him.

But when he rides the Segwell, they shout abuse from their cars: "Too lazy to walk, ya fuckin homo?"

My friend Trevor built his own Segway and a one-wheeled Eunicycle. People smile at the Eunicycle — but on the Segwell they shout from their cars: "Too lazy to walk, ya fuckin homo?"

My friend Trevor built a Segway clone and a one-wheeled version; riders smiled at the unicycle but yelled abuse at the Segway.

Why do Segways provoke this reaction?

The reason you look like a dork riding a Segway is that you look smug.

You don't seem to be working hard enough.

Someone riding a motorcycle isn't working any harder.

But because he's sitting astride it, he seems to be making an effort.

When you're riding a Segway you're just standing there.

And someone who's being whisked along while seeming to do no work — someone in a sedan chair, for example — can't help but look smug.

Why? You look smug: you don't seem to be working hard enough.

A motorcyclist isn't working harder, but astride the bike he seems to make an effort. On a Segway you just stand there. Anyone whisked along doing no work — a sedan chair — can't help but look smug.

You look like a dork because you look smug — you don't seem to be working. A motorcyclist isn't working harder, but astride the bike he seems to be making an effort.

Try this thought experiment and it becomes clear: imagine something that worked like the Segway, but that you rode with one foot in front of the other, like a skateboard.

That wouldn't seem nearly as uncool.

Imagine the same machine ridden like a skateboard. That wouldn't seem nearly as uncool.

Imagine the same machine ridden one foot in front of the other, like a skateboard — it wouldn't seem nearly as uncool.

So there may be a way to capture more of the market Segway hoped to reach: make a version that doesn't look so easy for the rider.

It would also be helpful if the styling was in the tradition of skateboards or bicycles rather than medical devices.

So make a version that doesn't look so easy to ride, styled after skateboards rather than medical devices.

Make a version that doesn't look so easy to ride, styled after skateboards or bicycles rather than medical devices.

Curiously enough, what got Segway into this problem was that the company was itself a kind of Segway.

It was too easy for them; they were too successful raising money.

If they'd had to grow the company gradually, by iterating through several versions they sold to real users, they'd have learned pretty quickly that people looked stupid riding them.

Instead they had enough to work in secret.

They had focus groups aplenty, I'm sure, but they didn't have the people yelling insults out of cars.

So they never realized they were zooming confidently down a blind alley.

Curiously, the company was itself a kind of Segway. Too easy: they raised money too well. Growing gradually, selling to real users, they'd have learned fast that riders looked stupid.

Instead they worked in secret — focus groups aplenty, but no one yelling insults from cars. They never realized they were zooming down a blind alley.

Segway's real trouble was that the company was itself a Segway — too easy, too well-funded to learn from real users that they looked stupid.