The controversy that embroiled the National Basketball
Association during the past three months has mercifully
ended. On Jan. 1, the NBA reverted to using its traditional
leather ball, replacing the composite ball introduced at the
beginning of the 2006 season.
The composite-ball saga might not take up much space in the
history books, but it does serve as an interesting case
study in how a business should, or shouldn't, introduce new
technologies.
The new ball was introduced at a June news conference by the
NBA and Spalding, the manufacturer, with much fanfare,
promising "a new design and a new material that together
offer better grip, feel, and consistency than the current
leather ball."
The material is a "microfiber composite with moisture
management that provides superior grip and feel throughout
the course of a game" and does not require a break-in period
like the current leather ball, according to the news
release.
In the first two months of the season that the new ball was
used, shooting percentages were virtually identical to those
of the previous season, but turnovers rose 10 percent.
Players began to complain about the new ball almost
immediately, including superstar Shaquille O'Neal, who
tactfully compared it to "one of those cheap balls that you
buy at the toy store."
League executives initially dismissed player input in a
condescending tone, stating that they had tested the ball
extensively and that players had used a composite ball in
high school and college. On Dec. 1, the NBA Players
Association filed an unfair labor practices complaint with
the National Labor Relations Board over the imposition of
the ball without player input.
Soon, high-profile stars like Steve Nash of the Phoenix Suns
and Jason Kidd of the New Jersey Nets began to wear
Band-Aids on their fingers during games, complaining that
the new ball left small cuts and abrasions. The powerful
visual impact of the bandaged players, and the possibility
that the ball was causing injuries, led the NBA to announce
that it would revert to the leather ball.
Here are four lessons that businesses can learn from
the fiasco:
1. Don't ignore feedback on new technology from
workers in the field. The NBA tested the new ball
in laboratory settings, and with a handful of recently
retired stars. But it did not seek direct feedback from the
players who would be the users of the new "technology."
Corporations that impose new technologies before getting
input from the workers often discover a considerable gap
between the theoretical efficiencies they forecast and the
unforeseen difficulties these systems pose in daily use. For
example, a CRM (customer relationship management) software
system might have great potential for improving the customer
experience and revenue. But if the software is even subtly
difficult for customer service representatives to use in the
real world, worker frustration and incomplete data will be
the most likely results.
2. Live by brand, die by brand. One of the
keys to the NBA's explosive growth in popularity the past 25
years has been its dedication to its brand and the
highlighting of past superstars like Magic Johnson, Larry
Bird and Michael Jordan and current ones like Dwyane Wade
and LeBron James. But if the players define the brand,
imposing changes on them is obviously a losing proposition,
even if the changes seem logical.
In the 1990s, Intel Corp. embarked on an advertising
campaign, "Intel Inside," to raise consumer brand awareness.
In 1994, a math professor at Lynchburg College discovered
that Intel's new Pentium chip's math co-processor could give
inaccurate responses to certain theoretical computations.
Intel initially treated the crisis as an engineering issue,
blandly declaring that "an average spreadsheet user could
encounter this subtle flaw once in every 27,000 years of
use."
But Intel's branding efforts had oriented consumers to view
their products emotionally, not analytically. The
controversy attracted media coverage, and Intel soon offered
to replace the offending chip if a customer requested. The
engineering realities, which might have satisfied corporate
customers, were not appropriate to Intel's consumer
strategies.
3. Quality as consistency vs. user experience.
The NBA defined quality as consistency -- that all balls
have precisely the same physical attributes, a standard
achievable using composite materials, as opposed to leather
that comes from individual cows and can vary slightly in
feel and bounce.
The players defined quality differently. For many of them,
the leather ball had a more comfortable feel and was more
resilient as the game progressed. Moreover, they associated
the leather ball with playing at the elite NBA level.
The lesson for businesses is not to reflexively automate
when a craft solution is what customers actually desire and
expect. The NBA players were defining quality as luxury,
like wine consumers who prefer bottles sealed with cork,
even though plastic tops objectively are in every way better
at preserving the wine.
4. If you want to be right, admit you are wrong.
NBA Commissioner David Stern did respect the No. 1 rule of
crisis management by reversing his decision and even making
fun of his own powerful reputation by joking that it was a
good thing for the NBA to demonstrate that even he could
make mistakes.
If a well-intended initiative is received spectacularly
poorly, often the easiest way to defuse it is to graciously
acknowledge the mistake, thank the critics for pointing it
out, and once again be on the side of the angels.