From Pampers to Platforms: Insanely Great Innovation

February 9, 2012

This post was inspired by a conversation with @cetinok about refactoring payments platforms.

About 8 years ago, a large grocery store in my town burned to the ground. The day after firemen in cherry pickers were still hosing the shell.

This was sad, because it wasn’t just a grocery store, it was a local institution. It started as a service to what was once a small and poor community – old timers still call it the ‘co-op’. The rest of town calls it the NPGS, which stands for Non Profit Grocery Store, though by now it sure looks like a for-profit enterprise.

The NPGS employed immigrants from Yemen and Russia, some of whom had been there for many years. So it was sad to see it go. Of course, it wasn’t coming back, because the town was growing, new grocery stores had opened, and customers couldn’t wait the 6 months it would take to rebuild.

A couple of weeks after the fire, the NPGS ran ads announcing that it would reopen shortly on the same spot. We wondered how they were going to pull that off.

Four weeks to the day after the fire, they reopened in a tent.

The Circus Tent Grocery Store

The tent

A huge, climate controlled, circus tent.

Inside the Tent

The view from inside

And there they have been ever since, serving their loyal customers and turning over millions of dollars in inventory.

NPGS baby aisle

Not a corner bodega

This has been my favorite example of business innovation for 8 years and I didn’t think it could be topped until last week when I passed the NPGS and noticed that they are building a new building on the same site around the tent. With the business running full blast inside.

Building around the tent

The only difference on the inside is that if you look closely you can see where pockets have been made in the walls to accommodate the girders.

How insanely brilliant is that?

How many engineers told the owner that it couldn’t be done before he found the one who could? How many safety issues did he have to mitigate to set up a construction site around a grocery store?

Now, let’s say that the grocery store is a payments platform comprising spaghetti code such that if you change a color on the home page, core fraud prevention fails.

And let’s say that the girders around the platform are an API upon which beautiful things can be built, regardless of what lies underneath.

The implications for rebuilding a payments platform while engaging external partners and keeping a business running are left as exercises for the reader.


Kerfuffles and Fermented Herrings: How Working Faster Slows us Down

January 30, 2012

Kerfuffle: Disturbance, fuss. (Merriam-Webster)

(Not to be confused with Kartoffle, which is German for ‘potato.’ [If your toddler fills your Bottega Veneta pumps with mashed potatoes and you don’t find out until you smoosh your toes in the next morning while racing for the bus that could be a kartoffle kerfuffle. But I digress.])

When I moved from a slow, process driven organization to one that prided itself on speed, I expected rapid progress. Instead, there was a lot of ‘rapid’ without a lot of ‘progress’. We’d start with a timeline like this:

Straight Timeline A to B

Then we’d decide it was too long, so we’d scurry about, emailing around the clock, trying to come up with a faster solution. And by the time we were done, the timeline would look like this:

Spiral A to B

A lot more work in the same amount of time.

Other spirals that occur in nature include:

  • The tornado, with the highest speed winds of any storm, destroying everything within its path.
  • The black hole, which sucks all matter and light into its vortex, leaving only an unproductive void.

Hmmmmmm.

Here are two kerfuffles that recently came up (with identifying details changed to protect my employment status). The first happened during a regular workday which, given the timezones involved, spans 24 hours. The second happened the last week of December when almost everyone except me was on vacation.

Kerfuffle 1

Fermented Herring Snack

Fermented Herring Snack

We were doing a deal with a partner whom we’ll call Viking, Inc., in a market we’ll call Sweden, and needed a commodity we’ll call Surströmming (the ever-popular Swedish snack made from fermented herrings).

Fun Fish Fact: In 1981, a German landlord evicted a tenant without notice after the tenant spread surströmming brine in the apartment building’s staircase. In the subsequent trial, the court ruled that the termination was justified when the defendant’s (i.e., the landlord’s) party demonstrated their case by opening a can inside the courtroom. (Wikipedia)

So we found a couple of Surströmming vendors and hired a local broker to negotiate with them. Meanwhile, the district government was keen to bring us in, because we’re a large company and it would be a feather in their cap to have us eating rotten fish and paying taxes in their district.

When the broker called one of the vendors, she was told that the district government had instructed the vendors to negotiate through our partners at Viking, Inc. In other words, our business partners would proxy negotiations between us and our potential suppliers.

If you find this confusing, I assure you, it was much more confusing when we were trying to figure out what was going on.

Now, there were two possibilities:

  1. Our Department of Surströmming Procurement believed that local officials, who had a close relationship with Viking management, wanted a window into the negotiations. This would allow the government to pressure the vendors into giving us lower pricing, smellier fish, or anything else that would bring us into the district.
  2. Our Legal department suspected that some petty official in the Ministry of Surströmming was making a bit on the side selling us government herrings through illegal channels. Or that someone was bribing someone to get us better (meaning worse) herrings. And they Hit. The. Roof.

It blew up overnight with emails whizzing around the globe, blood pressures rising, and a Senior Vice President of the General Counsel’s Office calling me at home around midnight to assure herself that I appreciated the gravity of this sinister Surströmming situation. I issued a ‘cease and desist’ order to our Procurement team and the local broker and put everything on hold while the lawyers consulted anti-corruption specialists to find out whether the two vendors were as tainted as their fish.

All of this on the critical path to the deal.

In the end, we held up negotiations for 2 weeks. The first week was spent tearing around with hair on fire, clarifying the facts, and getting the green light from outside counsel to resume negotiations. The second week was spent waiting for final, final, FINAL confirmation from our Compliance team, because this had escalated  so high and so fast that no one wanted to take any chances.

Could we have called a meeting of Compliance, Legal, outside counsel, our Surströmming department, and the broker to solve this 8 days faster without raising blood pressures quite so high? Maybe.

Kerfuffle 2

Bulging Can of Surstromming

The can bulges as the herrings 'improve'

The government changed the accounting rules for Surströmming. Originally it had to be held at book value. But because the herrings get better (i.e., worse) over time, the government decided to allow companies to book Surströmming as an appreciating asset. We could go with the tried-and-true approach. Or we could go with the new approach, which would help us in the long run, but meant we were operating under brand-new and untried accounting rules.

We would also be required to host a government inspection of our Surströmming warehouse, which we were keen to avoid. The official purpose of the inspection was to confirm that we actually had as many herrings decaying on the premises as our books claimed, but once the government was visiting, they tended to bring along building code inspectors, fire safety inspectors, and the Swedish equivalent of OSHA.

This came up the last week in December. Just about everyone was out. So I had a few leisurely days in which to consult with Finance, who collected data on Surströmming values over the preceding six months. I typed up the facts. We met with the decision makers on Jan. 3.

The decision to stick with the tried-and-true approach took exactly 13 minutes.


Now Hear This: Reclaiming My Brain (Part II)

January 28, 2012

I recently described how I started off a voracious reader, slipped through a wormhole, and found myself in another dimension. I thought I was still reading every day, but I wasn’t.

Then my mother handed me The Shallows, in which Nicholas Carr talks about the neurobiology of ‘deep reading,’ and that phrase woke me up to the fact that skimming, surfing, and scrolling are fundamentally different from, you know, reading. Also to the fact that my brain was fried.

Brain on Distractions

(With apologies to what used to be known as Partnership for a Drug-Free America.)

So I’m putting myself on a recovery program and issuing an Intellectual Declaration of Independence. But first, a few words in self-defense.

Yes, I Can Multitask.

I’m running a project that involves some 30 people on four continents. And I don’t mean to brag [THIS IS DIGITAL ACOLYTE’S ID: YES SHE DOES], but it’s going well. I can keep plenty of things going at once. I have six young kids, for goodness sake. I’m well aware that the employment model of, ‘Sit down at your desk and concentrate on one thing all day for the rest of your career’ ended when the last monk left his scriptorium.

Scriptorium

Low-stress, but not really a career option

But I’ve still been told that I need to get better at ‘multitasking’ by bosses who then reward me at the end of the year for getting stuff done. Dear Boss: There may be a connection between my unwillingness to take on useless side projects and my superior delivery. [Note to my present boss: I am of course talking about previous bosses.]

No, I am Not (Entirely) a Luddite

The printing press changed the way people shared knowledge. Instead of sagas shared collectively and out loud, people read deeply, alone, and came up with original ideas. It was a change, but it wasn’t a bad thing for humanity. From my wholly unbiased perspective.

If the Western literary mind is on its way out, maybe it will be replaced by something better, some networked model that is enriched by its interconnectedness with other brains and memory banks. Maybe we’ll learn to combine the best of the deep with the best of the broad.

But right now, I can count the people I know who use technology to enrich and share their deep, creative, original intelligence on the fingers of two fingers. (I’m not one of them.) The late-model brains on display are not impressive. I’ll keep my old brain a bit longer and let someone else do the beta testing.

My Recovery Program

I started my recovery program over a long weekend. Working in the garden. Looking at the ocean. Reading paper books (Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen and The Checklist Manifesto by Atul Gawande, since you ask). After a couple of days, clarity and focus began to return. So I’m going to consciously make time for these kinds of activities. I also decided to get the email situation under control, so I sent an email entitled My 2012 Email Resolutions to my project team. There’s nothing like telling 50 people that you want to send/receive less email to make you feel like an idiot when you email unnecessarily.

My 2012 Email Resolutions

  1. Before sending, I will ask myself whether I’d send the email if I had to pay $5.
  2. On problem resolution or research threads, I will not cc anyone who can’t contribute. If a thread includes unnecessary cc’s, I will give them a heads up and remove them. If they need to know the outcome of the discussion, I will send them a summary at the end.
  3. I will ask you to remove me from threads where I can’t contribute and send me a summary at the end.
  4. I will not send emails to say thank you for routine transactions (e.g., sending a file), to show that I’m working late, to make it look as though I’m paying attention when I’m not, or for any other silly reason.
  5. I will not email funny remarks that probably entertain me more than they entertain you. It’ll be hard, but I’ll try.
  6. I will be available to overseas colleagues outside US working hours but will try not to respond to US emails that can wait until morning. It’s unfair to my family and fosters a team culture in which everyone feels the need to be on all the time.
  7. When it appears that an issue is becoming a crisis I will quickly take it offline for thoughtful discussion. Email flurries are neither the fastest nor the most effective way of resolving problems.
  8. If a thread starts with a subject like “Meeting minutes Jan. 11” and turns into something else, I will replace the subject with something meaningful so you can go back and find it later.
  9. OK, maybe not #5.

I got several enthusiastic responses, plus one “I don’t do any of that.” From a colleague who, to give him credit, doesn’t.

My Declaration of Intellectual Independence

  • My parents endowed me with a curious, well-read, thoughtful, critical, creative brain. It was a good brain.
  • Some adjustments were needed. The adjustments have gone too far.
  • My new brain isn’t as good. It’s twitchy and overcaffeinated.
  • In a world of twitchy and overcaffeinated brains, brains that think deeply and creatively and solve tough problems will be a rare advantage. I intend to get mine back.
  • I will make time for deep reading. By definition, reading from a Blackberry is not deep reading.
  • I will give my brain downtime, as often as possible outdoors.
  • I will politely ignore those who tell me that I need to do more of things (like amassing Facebook friends or Twitter followers) that are likely to degrade the quality of my life, my brain, or my work.

We Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Program…

January 18, 2012

Since my last post was off topic, I’m actually interrupting an interruption of our regularly scheduled program, but regardless…

Whew. I can finally talk about what I’ve been doing since late July. In case you didn’t click, that’s a link to TechCrunch. Yes. Something I’m working on actually made it to TechCrunch.

The specific sentence that’s my claim to fame is, “AmEx is… planning to open a new American Express’ Enterprise Growth Group office in Hangzhou, China.” That’s muh baby, American Express Technology Service Company (Hangzhou) Ltd.

Half a year ago when my boss asked me to set up an HR operation in China I was taken aback, since two items notably missing from my professional background were (a) HR and (b) China. It didn’t get better when I realized that we couldn’t hire in China because we didn’t actually have a company to do the hiring. So ‘HR operation’ morphed into ‘new company’.

Six crazy months later, the press announcement is out and the business license is imminent. It’s been a fun ride — if somewhat sleep-deprived — with a great team.


Now Hear This: Reclaiming my Brain (Part I)

January 2, 2012

I’ve changed my tagline from “Avoiding panic at the intersection of social media, mobile technology, and payments” to “Avoiding insanity at [ditto].” We’ve looked at social media, mobile tech, and payments. It’s time to discuss insanity.

This is not off-topic. The frenzy of distraction that characterizes our personal and work lives will shape who and how and what drives mobile payment solutions.

I am reading The Shallows by Nicholas Carr and it is enlightening, frightening, and infuriating in equal parts. Carr talks about the development of the deep, literary brain, our brains’ infinite adaptability, and what happens when today’s technology goes to work on our adaptable brains.

Think silly putty in a blender. It’s not pretty. And it’s happening to me.

A Brief History of Digital Acolyte’s Brain

Portrait of the Reader as a Young Woman

Portrait of the Reader as a Young Woman

I taught myself to read when I was five and read continually until I was eighteen, when I had to stop now and then in order to drive. In my family, it was perfectly acceptable to read at the dinner table, provided you kept tomato sauce off the pages.

Reading at Dinner

Not my family, but pretty close

Some mothers bake chocolate chip cookies for their kids. On a recent visit to my parents’ place, my mother handed me The New Republic (liberal), The Weekly Standard (conservative), First Things (a Catholic intellectual journal), and Commentary (a Jewish intellectual journal). Welcome home.

In school, literary analysis felt odd. “Why did the author set up a contrast between blah and blah?” As far as I was concerned, the author didn’t ‘do’ anything, any more than Divine Providence started a feud between the Hatfields and the McCoys to illustrate the dynamics of conflict. When I read, characters were real people who did things because they wanted to.

Digital Acolyte Begins to go Senile

Several years back I started joking that I’d lost the ability to read books sequentially. I flipped, skipped, and rarely finished. If I thought about it seriously, I attributed it to the busyness and distraction that came with being a full-time working mother.

It got worse. When I tried switching to family mode after a day of non-stop phone calls, emails, and IMs I felt like my brain was still flipping pages, channel surfing, looking for something to do. I called it ‘sizzling.’ (Carr calls it ‘buzzing.’)

Brain Fragmentation

Brain Fragmentation

When I worked, I tried blocking out chunks of time to focus on a single task. I’d set a goal of 30 minutes and start a timer. When I felt like I’d worked 20 minutes and needed a break, I’d check the time.

It was consistently 7 minutes. My attention span is now 7 minutes long.

Here’s the worst – over the last few weeks, instead of checking email or Twitter when an alert comes in, I’ve caught myself mindlessly surfing my phone from nytimes.com to Twitter to my inbox and back, waiting for something new.

At first, I thought the ‘problem’ was all in my head.

But I started to see signs that it’s systemic. Like the colleague who spent 5 hours catching up on a few days’ email and got so dizzy that he started sending me responses to emails he’d already answered. Like this guy, far more digitally savvy than I’m ever likely to be, saying out loud that the emperor has no clothes, that we need to start focusing for the sake of our lives and our work.

Light Begins to Dawn

Then my mother (see above) handed me The Shallows, which explains both my brain and my work environment.

From the Prologue:

[Marshall] McLuhan understood that whenever a new medium comes along, people naturally get caught up in the information – the “content” – it carries… The technology of the medium, however astonishing it may be, disappears behind whatever flows through it…

What both enthusiast and skeptic miss is what McLuhan saw: that in the long run, a medium’s content matters less than the medium itself in influencing how we think and act.

And this:

By dramatically reducing the cost of creating, storing, and sharing information, computer networks have placed far more information within our reach … And the powerful tools for discovering… information developed by companies like Google ensure that we are forever inundated by information of immediate interest to us – and in quantities well beyond what our brains can handle… More of what is of interest to us becomes visible to us. Information overload has become a permanent affliction, and our attempts to cure it just make it worse. The only way to cope is to increase our scanning and our skimming, to rely even more heavily on the wonderfully responsive machines that are the source of the problem.

Does this sound familiar? Why, yes, it does.

From Digital Acolyte’s very first post, where I looked over the social media blogscape and had this to say:

This is an INSANE amount of content. And it’s ALL CHANGING ALL THE TIME.

A few days later, the unread item counts in my Google Reader page looked like this: [hundreds of unread items]

Gulp. Skimming is clearly a key survival skill in this Brave New World.

The last piece of the puzzle is the way our brains adapt biologically to what we do habitually. Spend the day sizzling and buzzing and the brain creates synapses to do just that. Do it long enough and the synapses that are used for deep, creative thought start to disconnect. Eventually, all the brain wants to do – or can do – is buzz and sizzle.

Next time, I’ll talk about my ability to multitask, whether I’m hopelessly mired in the past, and my Intellectual Declaration of Independence.

A Few Words on the Literary Brain

Carr quotes a recent essay by the playwright Richard Foreman, who writes,

I come from a tradition of Western culture in which the ideal (my ideal) was the complex, dense and ‘cathedral-like’ structure of the highly educated and articulate personality — a man or woman who carried inside themselves a personally constructed and unique version of the entire heritage of the West.

If you don’t find this moving, I’m guessing you have 2,000 friends on Facebook and no idea what I’m talking about.


Durbin and The Law of Unintended Consequences

December 8, 2011

A few weeks ago, with a sigh of relief, I heaved a post on the Durbin Amendment into the blogosphere for the reading public to ignore. To recap, Durbin reduced the fee merchants pay per debit card transaction from an average of 44 cents to 21 cents.

Today the Wall Street Journal reviewed one perverse side effect of Durbin: For many merchants, the cost of debit card transactions has gone up.

Many business owners who sell low-priced goods like coffee and candy bars now are paying higher rates — not lower — when their customers use debit cards for transactions that are less than roughly $10.

That is because credit-card companies used to give merchants discounts on debit-card fees they pay on small transactions. But the Dodd-Frank Act placed an overall cap on the fees, and the banking industry has responded by eliminating the discounts.

The theory behind Durbin was that once debit prices dropped, merchants would pass the savings along to customers. (Sing along if you’ve heard this tune before.) Instead,

Merchants now are trying to offset their higher rates by raising prices, encouraging customers to pay in cash or dropping card payments altogether.

And:

Merchants lobbied hard for a cap on debit-card fees, saying they would reduce prices if their costs fell. Instead, many say that the companies that process their debit-card transactions aren’t passing on the federally mandated savings, or are raising fees on other services.

The Evil Banks’ point of view:

Banks fought the new cap, which they say will cost the industry more than $6 billion a year. Banks recently tried to make up some of those anticipated losses by charging consumers for debit cards, but they quickly abandoned that plan due to customer outrage.

I suppose Occupy Wall Street would suggest that the banks just take the hit. So what if a few thousand 99%ers – marketing managers, risk analysts, or HR staff – lose their jobs along the way?

“But Digital Acolyte,” you protest. “Of course you sympathize with the Wall Street Journal! You work for a Big Evil Financial Services Firm! [I do.] You are an oligarch! [I’m not.] You are the 1%! [I wish.]”

Actually, when I first joined this industry, my sympathies were with the merchants. As far as I could tell, credit card companies were bribing customers with rewards to shift their spend from cash to credit, charging merchants for the credit card payments, and – to add insult to injury – charging merchants even more to fund the customers’ rewards. I was cynical about claims that credit cards increased merchants’ business. I stayed cynical right up until 2009 when it became abundantly clear that from 2006 to 2008 people used credit cards to buy lots of stuff they couldn’t afford. Long after consumers had walked away with the goods and merchants had gotten paid, credit card companies took a (well-deserved) soaking.

But as a philosophical matter, I object to governmental price-fixing. Because there are always side effects. I lean libertarian generally, but writing prices into the law seems like a particularly bad idea.

As any programmer will tell you, if you hard-code values, you deserve what you inevitably get.


Skip This Long and Boring Post: The Durbin Amendment

October 27, 2011

If you read my blog because we are old high school chums, please skip this long and boring post, which discusses the Durbin Amendment to the Dodd-Frank Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection Act, which is every bit as much fun as it sounds like.

If you read my blog because you work in payments, you’ve already heard the Durbin Amendment discussed in hushed tones:

Payments Person 1: “How’s the business model for that going to work?”
Payments Persion 2: [sotto voce] “After Durbin? Who knows?”

If you’re in payments and not already familiar with Durbin, stick around. (If you’re not in payments and still here, you’ll want to get a cursory understanding of interchange plus some No-Doz, before you dive in.)

You’re still here, huh? And you didn’t read up on interchange, did you? Fine, be that way. From the Amendment:

“The term ‘interchange transaction fee’ means any fee … charged … by a payment card network [like Visa] for the purpose of compensating an issuer [like Bank of America] for its involvement in an electronic debit transaction.”

Starting Point: Ignorance and a Whole Lot of Questions

When I started to research this post, I didn’t know much about Durbin beyond the fact that it engenders shock and awe among payments industry employees. I wanted to learn more, and also to answer these questions:

  • Will Durbin make debit cards less available or more expensive for consumers?
  • If debit becomes less profitable and banks stop promoting it, where do the payments go? To credit cards, in this unending recession? Back to checks? Somewhere else?
  • Does Durbin give large retailers or tech companies like Google and Apple greater incentive to build their own payment networks?
  • Is Durbin likely to influence the adoption of NFC by merchants?
  • Does Durbin impact payment products other than debit cards?

I’ll stop here so you can post any other questions you have in the comments. (“Seriously, you do this for fun?” doesn’t count.)

Step 1: Stalking the Elusive Amendment

The first thing I did was Google “text of Durbin Amendment,” which led me to THOMAS, which describes itself as, “In the spirit of Thomas Jefferson, legislative information from the Library of Congress.” There was a helpful paragraph that read:

AMENDMENT PURPOSE: To ensure that the fees that small businesses and other entities are charged for accepting debit cards are reasonable and proportional to the costs incurred etc.

So I was in the right neighborhood. But when I clicked on the link to ‘TEXT OF AMENDMENT AS SUBMITTED,’ I found myself looking at another link entitled “Congo Conflict Minerals.” And when I clicked a link to a ‘Printer Friendly Display’ I found myself wading through paragraphs like this:

On page 1552, beginning on line 16, strike “the President” and all that follows through “Senate,” on line 19 and insert the following: “the Class B directors of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York shall be designated by the Board of Governors, etc.”

I’ll spare you the rest of the search process, which involved too much time, a lawyer friend, and my brilliant academic sister. Eventually, Google came through with a useful PDF. Which may be completely fabricated, but at least it’s readable, so I decided to run with it.

It’s surprisingly hard for a US citizen to find a US law. Just sayin’.

Step 2: Reading the Amendment

Once I found it I read through a lot of the following so you wouldn’t have to:

‘‘(A) IN GENERAL.—A payment card network shall not, directly or through any agent, processor, or licensed member of the network, by contract, requirement, condition, penalty, or otherwise, inhibit the ability of any person to provide a discount or in-kind incentive for payment by the use of cash, checks, debit cards, or credit cards to the extent that—“

I understand that the statute turns into hundreds of pages of regulations, but even for you, dear reader, I’m not tackling that. So here, as best as I can make out, is what the Durbin Amendment says. Assuming that what I was reading was, in fact, the Durbin Amendment, and not a parody by The Onion.

  • Interchange fees for debit transactions must be “reasonable and proportional” to the issuer’s transaction cost. If you’re running a debit card network and it costs you $.0005 to process a transaction, don’t charge the merchant two bucks. 
  • In assessing whether fees are “reasonable and proportional,” the Fed is supposed to consider the functional similarity between debit transactions and paper checks. (Checks have to clear at par. If I write you a check for $100, your bank can’t slice off $2.50 and pay out $97.50 when you cash the check. In a debit transaction, interchange is the slice taken off the transaction’s face value. So you see where this is going.)
  • The Fed can also only consider costs directly associated with the debit clearing process. Those all-expenses paid tropical junkets for the card issuing bank’s Board of Directors don’t count. 
  • Banks that issue debit cards and have less than $10 billion in assets can charge whatever interchange they want. Of course, that doesn’t do them much good if their larger competitors are forced to charge less.
  • The government can charge whatever it wants on its own payment cards. It’s good to be in charge.
  • Issuers can charge whatever interchange they want on reloadable prepaid cards that meet certain conditions.
  • The government can also regulate network fees to prevent them from being used to sneak around the restrictions on interchange fees.
  • Merchants can offer discounts to encourage customers to pay through a preferred payment channel like cash, check, credit card, or debit card.
  • Merchants can set minimum transaction amounts for credit cards. Government agencies and universities can set maximum amounts. (Harvard is happy to kill students’ parents with fees; less happy with credit card companies killing Harvard with fees.)

Step 3: Understanding the Implications

At the end of the day, the government cut debit interchange fees from approximately 40 cents a transaction to 21 cents. The next step was understanding the implications. What happens industry-wide when issuers earn less per debit transaction but merchants have the incentive and ability to steer customers towards debit?

And this is where this post got stuck, and stayed stuck, until my company invited one of our Durbin experts in for a Durbin snack-and-learn. But she came in, and I was finally got answers to my questions, and I can finally post this post.

Q: Will Durbin make debit cards less available or more expensive for consumers?
A: Yes. Debit rewards are probably a thing of the past, unless you pay for them. And banks will make up the revenues elsewhere in checking account fees, etc. 

Q: If debit becomes less profitable and banks stop promoting it, where do the payments go? To credit cards, in this post-recession world? Back to checks? Somewhere else?
A: Prepaid cards. Plain-vanilla general purpose reloadable prepaid cards are exempt from the interchange cap. (You buy a card, pay cash to load it, use it like a credit card, and load it again.)

Q: Does Durbin give large retailers or tech companies like Google and Apple greater incentive to build their own payment networks?
A: No. It makes it less expensive for them to take payments from existing payment products.

Q: Is Durbin likely to influence the adoption of NFC by merchants?
A: Nope. Not relevant.

Q: Does Durbin impact payment products other than debit cards?
A: Yes. Prepaid cards are also regulated unless they meet specific requirements for exemption.

A Final Word (You’ve Come This Far, Bear with me a Little Longer)

At the Durbin snack-and-learn, a smart guy I work with asked, “Wasn’t the point of Dodd-Frank correcting the causes of the subprime mortgage mess? What does this have to do with mortgages?”

The Wall Street Journal asked the same question in an editorial on 9/13/11:

What is the cost of overregulation? Bank of America appears to have provided part of the answer by announcing yesterday that the nation’s largest bank will cut 30,000 jobs between now and 2014. CEO Brian Moynihan said the bank’s plan is to slash $5 billion in annual expenses from its consumer businesses… How exactly does forcing banks to charge Wal-Mart less money for operating an electronic payment system prevent the next financial crisis? … The Fed dutifully ordered banks to cut their fees almost in half. Bank of America disclosed in its most recent quarterly report that this change will reduce the bank’s debit-card revenues by $475 million in just the fourth quarter of this year. The new rules take effect on October 1, so BofA seems to have sensible timing as it begins to shed workers from a consumer business that has become suddenly less profitable by federal edict.


At the Intersection of Here, There, and Everywhere

August 28, 2011

A recent Forbes article has the most succinct summary I’ve seen of the insanity that we call mobile payments:

Mobile payments sits at the intersection of different industry groups:

  • Financial payment service providers like American Express, JCB, MasterCard, Visa , etc.
  • Mobile telecoms operators like China Mobile, Orange, NTT DoCoMo, Verizon, Vodafone, etc.
  • Mobile phone manufacturers like Apple, HTC, LG, Nokia, RIM, Samsung, etc.
  • Online payment service providers like PayPal, AliPay, Amazon, etc.

Each of these groups have been jockeying for position to try to be in pole position to own and dominate the mobile payments space and to take the lion’s share of the rewards. All of the individual efforts and competing trials have led to confusion for consumers and merchants and made it difficult for any one effort to reach critical mass.

Still ridiculously confusing, but at least I know why.


Of Slicers and Scalpers

July 17, 2011

Every once in a while it’s good to read something that is not work related and not Harry Potter. (Harry Potter is usually a good choice. But sometimes.) Over the Fourth of July weekend I treated myself to Complications: A Surgeon’s Notes on an Imperfect Science by Atul Gawande. It is a sensitive, intelligent exploration of the fallibility of doctors, the risks inherent in medical training, and the limits of medical certainty. I also bought Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, the Most Powerful Indian Tribe in American History by S. C. Gwynne. Both are great books, though if you are unwilling to see Native Americans portrayed as anything other than smallpox victims, or have a weak stomach for descriptions of torture, you’ll want to skip Summer Moon.

One sneaky reason for reading books outside one’s professional field is that they inevitably shed light on one’s profession.

From Gawande:

Recently, a group of Harvard Business School researchers who have made a specialty of studying learning curves in industry… decided to examine learning curves among surgeons. They followed eighteen cardiac surgeons and their teams as they took on the new technique of minimally invasive cardiac surgery…

The new heart operation… proved substantially more difficult than the conventional one. [S]urgeons had to learn… how to operate in a much reduced space. And the nurses, anesthesiologists, and perfusionists all had new roles to master, too. Everyone had new tasks, new instruments, new ways that things could go wrong, and new ways to fix them… Whereas a fully proficient team takes three to six hours for such operations, these teams took an average of three times longer for their early cases…

…[R]esearchers found striking disparities in the speed with which different teams learned. All teams received the same three-day training session and came from highly respected institutions with experience in adopting innovations. Yet, in the course of fifty cases, some teams managed to halve their operating time while others failed to improve at all…

Richard Bohmer, the one physician among the Harvard researchers, made several visits to observe one of the quickest-learning teams and one of the slowest and he was startled by the contrast. The surgeon on the fast-learning team was actually quite inexperienced compared with the one on the slow-learning team – he was only a couple of years out of training. But he made sure to pick team members with whom he had worked well before and to keep them together through the first fifteen cases before allowing any new members. He had the team go through a dry run before the first case, then deliberately scheduled six operations in the first week, so little would be forgotten in between. He convened the team before each case to discuss it in detail and afterward to debrief. He made sure results were tracked carefully. And as a person, Bohmer noticed, the surgeon was not the stereotypical Napoleon with a knife… At the other hospital the surgeon chose his operating team almost randomly and did not keep it together. In his first seven cases, the team had different members every time, which is to say that it was no team at all. And he had no pre-briefings, no debriefings, no tracking of ongoing results.

From Gwynne:

From the scant evidence we have, [the Comanches] were considered a tribe of little or no significance. They had been driven to this harsh, difficult land… by other tribes – meaning that, in addition to everything else they were not good at, the Comanches were not very good at war, either.

What happened to the tribe between roughly 1625 and 1750 was one of the great social and military transformations in history. Few nations have ever progressed with such breathtaking speed from the status of skulking pariah to dominant power…

The agent of this astonishing change was the horse. Or, more precisely, what this backward tribe of Stone Age hunters did with the horse, an astonishing piece of transformative technology…

The story of the Comanches’ implausible ascent begins with the arrival of the first conquistadors in Mexico in the early sixteenth century. The invaders brought horses with them from Spain. The animals terrified the natives, provided obvious military superiority, and gave the Spaniards a sort of easy mobility never before seen by the inhabitants of the New World…

Since they were fully aware of what might happen if indigenous tribes learned to ride, one of the very first ordinances they passed prohibited natives from riding any horse. They could not enforce such laws, of course. Ultimately they needed Indians… to work their ranches…

The first real herd of horses in North America arrived with the expedition of Don Juan de Onate to New Mexico in 1598. He brought with him seven hundred horses. The Spanish… enslaved the local Pueblo Indians, who… tended the horses, though they never showed any interest in using them for anything besides food.

But the Pueblos were not the only Indians in New Mexico… The Apaches began to adapt themselves to the horse… The Indians first stole the horses, then learned how to ride them…

The horse gave them astounding advantages as hunters. It also made them doubly effective as raiders… In spite of this auspicious start, the Apaches were never a great horse tribe… They used their Spanish mustangs mainly for basic travel and had an inordinate fondness for cooked horseflesh…

No one knows exactly how or when the Comanche bands in eastern Wyoming first encountered the horse… or what there was in the soul of the Comanche that understood the horse so much better than everyone else did… The Comanches adapted to the horse earlier and more completely than any other plains tribe… No one could outride them or outshoot them from the back of the horse… No tribe other than the Comanches ever learned to breed horses – an intensely demanding, knowledge-based skill that helped create enormous wealth for the tribe… They were not only the richest of all tribes in sheer horseflesh, their horses were also the main medium through which the rest of the tribes became mounted…

In the late 1600s, Comanche mastery of the horse had led them to migrate southward out of the harsh, cold lands… and into more temperate climates. The meaning of the migration was simple: They were challenging other tribes for supremacy over the single richest hunting prize on the continent: the buffalo herds of the southern plains.

The implications of leadership, team dynamics, being first vs. being best, and imagination (“You see dinner, I see world domination”) in the mobile payments space are left as exercises for the reader.


Parlor Trick Payments

May 31, 2011


Apologies, dear readers. It’s been a while.

For starters, my boss wasn’t kidding when he said this job would be hellish. Also, I made the mistake of choosing the Durbin Amendment to the Dodd Frank Act as the subject of an upcoming post. Writing it is a long and boring slog; reading it will undoubtedly be similar.

But then I came across something I had to share.

Square, a payments company founded by Jack Dorsey of Twitter fame, develops hardware and software that turn Apple and Android devices into payment processing machines. They make a cute little card reader that plugs into the audio jack of the phone or iPad. Square has gotten funding from Visa and shelf space in Apple stores, and they’re taking off.

The card reader is a great idea; you can now take credit card payments at your garage sale. It’s a perfect example of the ‘solve a problem and be useful to humanity’ school of product design.

However. Square is piloting a new payment experience called Card Case. It’s slick. It’s nifty. It’s beautifully designed. But, unlike the card reader, Card Case falls squarely into the ‘build it and hope they will come’ school of product design. It’s a Parlor Trick product –  clever and entertaining, but not… terribly… useful.

Mashable describes Card Case thusly:

Square has just introduced a new mobile payment system that allows consumers to pay with their names, no wallet needed, with merchants who use the Square card reader and run the startup’s newly updated Square Register for iPad application.”

In a nutshell, here’s how Card Case works (it’s worth checking out the end-to-end visuals here).

  1. You visit a participating merchant and pay via Square card reader.
  2. You enter your cell number in the merchant’s iPad.
  3. You get a text message with a link to Square’s account setup pages.
  4. You create an account. Square sets up a tab (as in, “Put it on my tab”) with the merchant, using the credit card you used for the initial transaction.
  5. You download the Square Card Case application for iPhone or Android and create a PIN.
  6. You end up with a card for each merchant where you have a tab.
    Square Card Case

    UI designers, eat your hearts out.

    The UI is undeniably gorgeous. Stylish. Retro. Clever. I’m almost tempted to run out and get an iPhone just to be able to use UIs that look like this (RIM, are you paying attention?)

  7. When you’re checking out at a participating merchant where you have a ‘tab’, you click Ready to Pay on your phone and your name appears on the merchant’s Square Register application. The merchant selects your name to charge the transaction to your tab. It’s not completely clear from the Mashable article, but I don’t think you’re running up a tab with the merchant. It sounds like this is just a fancy way of executing a credit card transaction.
  8. An electronic version of the receipt is attached to the merchant’s card in your Card Case.

There’s also a local component – Card Case can show you participating merchants nearby, and even the merchants’ menus or product listings. The only thing missing is a social angle; share to Facebook is undoubtedly coming soon.

Adorable. But what’s the point of this? How is it faster or easier than swiping a credit card? Or more flexible than carrying a couple of credit cards and switching off as needed?

Here’s what Jack Dorsey, CEO of Square, has to say about it (quote from Mashable):

“Cash registers and credit card terminals are relics of an expensive, complicated and impersonal commercial transaction system… With Register and Card Case, we’re transforming everyday transactions between buyers and sellers into something special.”

I haven’t found credit cards terribly complicated, myself.

Net life change: You can leave your credit card at home, provided you’re (a) going to a merchant where you have a ‘tab’ and (b) you want to pay from the same credit card you used to create the tab.

When I compare this to the net life change for Kenya’s killer payment app, I’m underwhelmed, but then, I’m a Gen X stick-in-the-mud.

Help me out: Hipsters, Millenials, and Apple fanpersons, this is your chance to call me an old fogey. Is Card Case the next iPhone, a product so cool that it doesn’t have to fill a need? Or are the good folks at Square simply trying to get press? What do you think?


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