THE
RISE AND FALL OF BETA
by
Marc Wielage with Rod Woodcock
Originally
published in issue #5 of Videofax
�Oh, somewhere there�s a VCR
that�s
been a huge success,
That
format now is thriving
and
is known as VHS;
And
somewhere tapes are playing
and
films are rented out.
But
there�s no joy at Sony�
Mighty
Beta has struck out.
�
after Ernest Lawrence Thayer�s immortal �Casey at the Bat�
SONY
MAKING VHS. The very idea
was anathema to Betaphiles around the world. Since the dawn of the Beta format
in 1975, Akio Morita, the proud patriarch of Japan�s most famous electronics
company, insisted it would never happen. To Sony, VHS was little more than an
upstart enemy � a mere technological kluge that copied their basic design,
changing only the size and shape of the cassette and the internal mechanism. But
Mr. Morita never envisioned the tumultuous events that were to unfold over the
next decade ...events that would see Sony�s total domination of the home video
market crumble and fade like ashes in a dying fire.
Starting initially with the LV-1901 console TV/recorder, introduced in
the U.S. in November of 1975, and following up with the SL-7200 deck in the
Spring of the following year, Sony created an entirely new consumer electronics
category � the home VCR � and ushered in a revolutionary way of distributing
feature films. Sony�s electronic wonder brought with it the concept of
�time-shifting� � watching TV shows when you want to see them, not just
when they�re broadcast � which was a revolutionary concept that we now take
completely for granted. Directly or indirectly, Sony�s Beta format had an
impact on every one of you reading this today.
But
how did it all go wrong? How could Beta, recognized widely as the �superior�
technical format, be vanquished by JVC�s VHS? Many industry pundits had their
own reasons: �It was the short playing time of Beta that really did them
in,� was the most oft-cited opinion. �Sony was too egotistical � they
thought they alone could make the format succeed, and their pride always got in
their way,� chided several experts looking for a psychological angle. This led
to another theory: �Sony never licensed enough manufacturers to make Beta.�
Still other experts pointed out that �Beta machines never had the features and
styling of the competition.� And others insisted: �Marketing... it all boils
down to marketing.�
The
truth behind Beta�s failure involves all of these obvious factors, and maybe a
few more. We�ve taken a long, hard look at Beta for nearly a decade and a
half. We�ve lived with the machines day in and day out; we�ve owned
virtually every Sony U.S. model known to man (and even some of the rare Japanese
models never released in North America); we�ve poured out thousands upon
thousands of dollars on every type and length of blank and pre-recorded Beta
tapes imaginable. But the final story is long and tortuous. Attempting to go
into every conceivable detail to try to analyze what went wrong with Sony�s
efforts would require a book-long epic. No doubt it will be a case study to be
discussed and dissected at length in schools of higher learning in both the U.S.
and the Far East for many years to come � a textbook model of all the mistakes
and wrong turns that can happen in the consumer electronics business. Rod
Woodcock has essayed the subject several times in past columns and articles in Video
magazine, and provided much of the source material for the story that fol�lows.
Both of us have been working on what we hope will be the complete, unabashed
history of home video, to be published at a later date. [Still not done as of
2003 � but we continue to muse on the idea.]
For
now, what follows is an abbreviated version of a difficult story full of myths,
colorful figures, egos run wild, technological miracles, marketing
shortsightedness, and the brilliance for which Sony is well-known. The final
chapter on Beta has yet to be written; for now, consider this merely to be the
introduction.
CONVENIENCE
AND INCONVENIENCE
The
Sony executive looked at me warily. In heavily � accented English, he
explained, patiently, as if to a schoolchild: �We think adding remote pause to
our video recorder would be a mistake. People might over � use it and create
technical problems, wearing out their video heads too soon. No. This would be a
bad idea.�
The
year was 1978, and I was talking to a Sony vice-president at my very first
Consumer Electronics Show about what I per�ceived was a short-sighted attitude
in their product-planning department. I gestured wildly. �But look at that new
machine over there from RCA! They�ve got remote pause and
a built-in timer! And audio dub, too!� The executive looked bored.
�Having separate timer allows the consumer to use it for other purposes. And
not everyone needs timer. We do not force you to buy one.�
This
was getting nowhere fast. I began to plead. �Are you saying that RCA, for all
their years of marketing expertise, doesn�t know the home video market as well
as you do?� I glared at him, almost out of breath. The Sony executive smiled
icily. �We think we know best.�
I
don�t know where this clown is working today, but we can only pray it�s not
in home video.
The
issues of the remote pause control and built-in timer were obvious to anyone who
studied the products in any detail. Each feature was simple to produce and cost
pennies on the assembly line. RCA was also the first to realize the importance
of multi-event timers with the VCT-400, which could record four different events
over a one-week period. Although this product ultimately proved to be unreliable
because of the lack of a power back-up for the clock (a flaw later rectified
with the VCT- 400X), consumers took to this new development instantly.
Multi-event timer programming quickly became a standard feature of deluxe VHS
decks, but perhaps because of a NIH (�not
invented here�) philosophy, it took Sony nearly two years to market a
multi-event timer-equipped VCR, which was their SL-5600.
Sony
often took a back seat in inaugurating other convenience features, too,
beginning with audio/video inputs. These
jacks were deliberately omitted from the original SL-7200 Beta deck in order to
give the more expensive LV-1901 console a competitive advantage. Eventually,
consumer demand forced them to reluctantly add this feature with the revised
SL-7200A. Another feature was audio
dub, which was offered on virtually every VCR Sony released in all other
parts of the world, including the Japanese versions of the 7200, but it was
years before it was offered in the U.S. Again, the overwhelming opinion was that
one more knob might be too much for our simple American minds to manage.
Anyone
in the audio industry was also quick to see the superiority of the front-load�ing
cassette hatch, which made top-loading audio decks obsolete almost
overnight. This first appeared on Sharp�s VC-6800 in the fall of 1980 and
quickly became a standard fea�ture in every VCR on the market, regardless of
price. Sony followed with a front- loading Betamax a year later. The same
problem repeated itself with solenoid-assisted
transports and full-function remote
control, which first appeared in industrial and professional video decks in
the early 1970s. Despite the ergonomic elegance of solenoid transports, it was
Mitsubishi, not Sony, who first introduced a consumer VCR with this feature in
mid-1979, with their trend-setting HS-300. Two full years elapsed before Sony
finally offered a solenoid-transport VCR, the SL-2500, which also boasted full
wireless infrared remote.
In
all fairness, we must point out that since the beginning, Sony was virtually
alone in devoting time and money for R&D on new developments for Beta, while
VHS had the considerable resources of Hitachi, JVC, Matsushita, Mitsubishi, and
the others in the VHS family. Still, Sony�s failure to realize the importance
of these features continued to snowball well into the mid-1980�s, and by then,
it was much too late.
LONG,
LONGER, LONGEST: THE SPEED WARS
The
issue of longer playing time was
perhaps the very first impasse that came up in the earliest known discussions
between RCA and Sony. Originally, back in the early design stage in 1973 and
1974, Beta was touted as a �miniature U-Matic recorder for the home.� Since
3/4� was limited to a maximum of 60 minutes, it was widely believed inside
Sony that one hour was an acceptable limitation. After all, that�s the average
length of an American TV show. Needless to say, they were wrong.
When
RCA had first examined the early pre-release Beta prototypes during this
embryonic period, they asked whether a longer playing time was possible.
Nonplussed, the Sony engineers responded that it would someday be possible to
narrow the video track pitch and cut the tape speed in half to produce a
recording with twice the playing time. But, they warned, the picture quality
would be quite poor, and further research and development would be needed to
improve it before it could be marketed. Sony�s marketing people reportedly
told RCA to take the one-hour Betamax or leave it. They left it. About 18 months
later, in early 1977, RCA went to Matsushita and convinced JVC�s parent firm
to perform the same half-speed trick with the existing VHS format, which was
already a two-hour format, much to the protestations of JVC�s design
engineers.
Even
without the VHS speed change, this format held a big advantage over Beta. The
VHS cassette was about 50% larger than the Beta cassette, and could hold
considerably more tape-approximately 250 meters in a T�120, instead of the
150-meters in a one-hour K-60 (later L-500) Beta cassette. The linear speed of
VHS was also slightly slower than Beta-roughly 1.3 inches per second for SP
compared to 1.6 inches per second in Beta I � which allowed further savings in
tape costs. The final result was a much more economical system than the original
Beta mode, and this ultimately proved to be Sony�s Achilles� Heel.
RCA�s
theory was that a four-hour playing time would be significant, since this was
the average time of a broadcast football game. Also important were such
�fripperies� as a remote wired pause
control and a built-in timer, which
helped them win thousands of customers in 1978. RCA�s products quickly
out-sold JVC�s, who had refused to partici�pate in the �bastardized� LP
mode because they felt it compromised the performance of their original
invention. It seems clear, how�ever, that left on their own, without the
benefit of RCA�s marketing acumen, JVC would probably have failed even more
spectacularly than Sony.
The
moment RCA�s �SelectaVision� VHS deck was announced in the Summer of 1977,
Sony wasted no time in rushing to the market a revised version of the SL-7200,
christened the SL-8200. This machine refined the origi�nal Beta deck by adding
a capstan-servo circuit to improve
stability and two record/ playback speeds:
X-1 (later BI) was the new term
for the original one-hour mode, and X-2 (later called BII) was the new half-speed mode, designed
originally for economical time-shifting. Much to the chagrin of videophiles, Bll
quickly became the standard mode for the format, resulting in a visible loss of
picture quality, particularly with pre-recorded cassettes.
To
placate the original Beta owners who felt abandoned with their now-obsolete
BI-only machines, Sony offered mechanical multi-cassette changers, which allowed lengthy unattended
timer recordings. Both the original AG-120 and the improved electri�cally-powered
AG-300 could hold up to three videocassettes at a time, with a fourth in the
VCR, allowing up to eight hours of recording. In desperation, Sony continued to
make com�panion changers for several VCRs over the next five years. But all of
the changers suffered from reliability problems and consumer apathy, and the
idea was eventually abandoned, causing no small embarrassment.
By
late 1978, Sony unveiled two more defenses in the battle for video speed
supremacy: the first was the thin 16-micron L-750 tape, which allowed a 50% longer recording than
conventional 20-micron L-500 cassettes. This was a major breakthrough, and one
about which they felt particularly keen. A year later, they followed with the
L-830, a delicate, tissue paper-like tape only 13-microns thick, which provided 5 hours of recording at BIll,
the even-slower speed that debuted in mid-1979. Sony engineers knew that the
VHS transport�s M-load design placed considerably more stress on the tape load
path during playback and recording, and would probably wreck a thin tape in a
matter of seconds. They convinced themselves that the thin (and costly) Beta
tapes alone could undo the damage done in the early stages of Beta�s design.
But, like the unsuccessful changers, the thin tapes never were able to capture
the fancy of indifferent consumers and cynical retailers, and ultimately, Beta
lost the battle for speed supremacy.
With
our usual hindsight, we can offer a few observations about the issue of playing
time. Sony should have immediately realized their error in underestimating the
immense importance of the American �bigger, longer, better� mentality. Good
or bad, it was this key factor that made the biggest impression in the minds of
American consumers, and more importantly, retailers. Rather than release the
SL-8200 in the fall of 1977, Sony would have been far wiser to unveil a slightly
larger Beta cassette shell with dimensions roughly the same as the VHS cassette,
along with the dual-mode BI/BII operation. By doing so, they would have met the
challenge of VHS head on and moved ahead with future developments such as
thinner tape. The standard Beta cassette could still be used for camcorders and
other portable products, effectively becoming the �Beta-C� format where
playing time is unimportant.
What
would Sony�s larger VHS-ish Beta cassette have looked like, had Sony opted to
make the switch back in 1978, when it mattered? Sony�s Broadcast video
division now makes such a cassette, in the form of the BCT-90 Betacam tape. This
giant-sized shell holds 4-1/2 times as much tape as an L-500 cassette, enabling
Betacam users to get a full 90 minutes of programming on a single cassette.
Translated to the consumer arena, this cassette (or a more reasonably-sized
equivalent) would have given Sony a 4-1/2 hour BI tape, or 9 hours at BII; more
than enough to compete with VHS. Plus, Sony could still have hung on to the
smaller shell, using it for portables or shorter program material, since it
would still have been able to fit inside the larger machines, just as VHS-C
cassettes still function in standard decks (with adapters).
Of
course, there�s no way to predict what JVC�s reaction would have been back
in 1978, had Sony adopted this larger shell. Perhaps JVC would have retaliated
with a larger VHS shell of their own, and the history of the format wars would
have been written in salvos of larger and incompatible cassettes, rather than
slower and slower tape speeds.
FORMAT
DESIGN
A
lot of press has been devoted to the basic design differences between Beta and
VHS. Sony claims to have invented the M-loading
transport during R&D on U-Matic back in the late 1960�s. This idea was
so named because the tape path resembled a capital �M,� wrapping tightly
around the video head by a series of guide pins. Sony engineers were never able
to overcome the inherent stress and mechanical problems of this system, and
later abandoned it in favor of U-loading; which pulled a large circular loop of
tape out of the cassette and wrapped it completely around the head. After a
Herculean effort, JVC�s engineers were eventually able to perfect M-loading,
and insisted that although the M-load transport did place slightly more stress
on the tape, the mechanism itself was less complex to build than Sony�s and
was more reliable.
JVC�s claims to the contrary, Sony held a major technical advantage over VHS for many years, simply by virtue of the fact that U-loading kept the tape threaded at all times around the video heads. This allowed much faster and more precise tape cueing and editing � a critical requirement for videophiles and industrial users. Sony�s design had the drawback of wearing down the video heads and tape slightly during high-speed winding. The designers were quick to point out that a slight air-pocket between the heads and tape made this wear almost negligible. Nonetheless, it soon became clear that Beta tapes were more susceptible to scratching during fast-forwarding and rewinding, which led many videophiles to use stand-alone rewinder accessories � a practice we still recommend to this day. Sad to say, with the exception of a couple of cheap Sanyo VCRs, virtually no Beta deck ever offered the ability to wind tapes inside the shell, which is standard for the vast majority of VHS decks.
But
the M-load system was still far from perfect. Early VHS decks were achingly slow
to operate, taking nearly five seconds to produce a picture after the play
button was first depressed. This was improved in the late 1970�s with the
introduction of Panasonic�s industrial NV-8200, the first VHS deck with a partial-load
transport. This kept the tape pulled out slightly from the cassette during
all wind modes, which eventually allowed the use of a real-time
counter (reading pulses from the tape�s control track) and also provid�ing
somewhat faster playback cueing than conventional designs. Within a few years,
many consumer VHS decks adopted variations of the same idea.
By
mid-1979, Sony engineers came up with a major ace in the hole: high-speed
picture search, originally termed �Videola� but later renamed
�BetaScan� (after a lawsuit by motion picture editing manufacturer Moviola).
They were confident that VHS would never be able to provide this feature,
which was first introduced in Sony�s SL-5400. Much to Sony�s surprise,
Mitsubishi engineers managed to duplicate the feature a few months later in
their HS-300. This exciting consumer VCR was the first to offer a full-solenoid
transport and completely wireless remote control. By 1980, virtually every VCR
on the market had picture search, which was arguably the most significant
innovation since slow-speed recording.
The
following year, Sony revised the original Beta transport with a new, streamlined
design, which they felt would be much more popular with consumers. This new
transport was first used in the SL-2500: a sleek, beautiful VCR which nearly became Sony�s Edsel.
It seems that the engineers, in their haste to create the world�s thinnest
VCR, made the fatal flaw of using lightweight
plastic parts, which lacked the stamina of the heavier-duty metal compo�nents
used in previous models. The biggest disaster was caused by the molded plastic
hinges used for the folding tape guides in the transport. These delicate hinges
couldn�t take the day-in, day-out stresses of repeated use, and often snapped
off, resulting in tape jams. This VCR�s thin �pancake� motors also led to
problems in generating enough torque to drive the tape. Both problems were
eventually solved, but not before massive consumer complaints flooded Sony
repair stations with defective machines. Eventually, the problem was solved with
a revised design that used sturdier parts.
As
if to add insult to injury, VHS was eventually able to match Sony�s edge in
U-load rapid cueing. Akai developed the �Quick-Start� transport in 1987,
which essentially provided a Beta-like load technique for VHS, keeping the tape
threaded up at all times around the video head drum. Toshiba is now introducing
similar VHS decks, and others are sure to follow. Just as with all of Sony�s
technological breakthroughs, VHS was always able to keep up with Beta,
step-by-step, and eventually overtake them.
THE
INDUSTRIAL AGE
For
all the problems in their consumer line, Sony�s SLO-series of industrial Beta
decks were generally well-received and actually enjoyed a brief, though
successful reign in the 1/2" pro business. Starting with the SLO-320 in
late 1978, and climaxing with the SLO-383 editing deck, Sony�s heavy-duty
1/2" VCRs were exceptionally well-built, almost matching the stamina of
their best-selling 3/4" decks used in broadcast television facilities.
Unfortunately, Sony occasionally made these decks too good, creating
behind-the-scenes disputes between the consumer and professional VCR divisions.
As
sales of Sony�s consumer Beta�s declined, the trend towards offering more so�phisticated
VCRs began to place Sony�s consumer and industrial divisions at odds. Between
1977 and 1984, Sony sold a lot of BI industrial Betas, which were bigger,
better, more heavy-duty, and offered better picture quality than the consumer
machines. But when SuperBeta appeared in 1985, and VHS became even more
entrenched as the preferred consumer format, sales of industrial Betas began to
decline. Worse yet, the consumer and industrial divisions now found themselves
selling Beta to the same market: the high-end consumer videophile and the
industrial user.
To
court the videophile, Sony brought back the BI speed to the consumer format,
adding SuperBeta and christening it BI-S. But while the trend-setting SL-HF900,
introduced in Japan in January of 1985, had the BI-S speed (along with the
jog/shuttle knob, another feature that was quickly copied by Sony�s VHS
competitors) Sony omitted it from the U.S. version, apparently in a deliberate
move to make it less competitive with non-Super BI Betas from their industrial
division.
Around
the same time, Sony introduced a new slim-line industrial VCR in Japan called
the GCS-50 � an editing deck with
flying-erase heads and BI-S for superior picture quality. Inexplicably, the
designers opted not to make this VCR compatible with their previous U-Matic
equipment and controllers, (or the SLO-383 editing Betamax) giving it a unique
editing interface. Once again, U.S. marketing execs deliberately omitted BI from
the domestic model, giving the excuse that that they didn�t want to create any
compatibility problems between the new BI-S mode and the older standard BI
decks.
None
of these opinions gelled when, just a few months later, Sony�s consumer
division released the SL-HF1000. This was perhaps the most feature-laden
consumer VCR ever built, which at last boasted the new BI-Super-High-Band mode,
again pushing the luminance carrier up ever-so-slightly to provide still better
performance than �standard� SuperBeta. Even more intriguing, the 1000 was
equipped with flying-erase heads and editing features, making it above and away
a superior value to the GCS-50.
These
engineering problems at Sony happened more often than one might think. Sony
frequently divided their R&D forces into separate groups to work on projects
that could have better solved by leaving them to work together. As an example,
when Sony introduced the mid-priced SL-2710 in 1983, it offered 9-event/21-day
programming; at the time, their top deluxe VCR was the SL-2700, which only
offered 4-event/14-day programming, which made no sense. Like many other
Japanese manufacturers, Sony also had a bad habit of inaugurating an important
feature one year, then forgetting about it the next. Such innovations as super-high-speed
picture search, improved timer programming techniques, and logical
placement of transport controls seemed to change every year, solely for the
sake of change. Sony occasionally was guilty of wasting their R&D efforts
with impractical but technologically-interesting VCRs like the SL-2410, a VCR
equipped with a voice synthesizer chip that �talked� the user through the
timer programming steps. And despite the modest sales of the original console
Betamax, Sony persisted with the idea more than a decade later with a similar
8mm console model. Sony seemed destined to repeat their mistakes with each new
video format.
TAPE
COMPATIBILITY AND HI-FI
When
the BII mode was initially introduced in the U.S. with the SL-8200, Sony was
smart enough to include the BI mode for compatibility with the previous 7200
deck and 1901 console. Less than a year later, however, Sony released a BII-only
deck, the SL-8600, which was smaller and more attractive than previous models,
and at last, provided the built-in timer and remote pause control that consumers
demanded; other, similar Beta VCRs soon followed from Sanyo, Toshiba, and
Zenith. But these machines antagonized all the original Beta I owners, who were
convinced that Sony was deserting them in a desperate attempt to keep up with
their competition. Eventually, consumer complaints were loud enough that Sony
was forced to include all-mode compatibility with every consumer deck that
followed, but the damage was still done.
JVC,
on the other hand, maintained a tight grip on the compatibility issue of their
VHS format. They insisted all machines bearing the trademark could play SP
tapes, which proved to be of key importance once the tape rental market got off
the ground. VHS had compatibility problems of their own, however, particularly
in the area of special effects. Once three-speed VCRs became popular, many VHS
manufacturers, particularly JVC, were quick to drop all special-effects modes
from the LP mode. VHS owners complained (and still complain, to this day) about
being short-changed, since many felt that the LP mode represented the best
compromise between performance and economy. But their arguments fell on deaf
ears, and the LP mode soon became an outcast, supported as a record and play
speed only by Panasonic and Hitachi, and often without any special effects. Some
companies didn�t know which way to turn. Mitsubishi�s first VHS decks had
only SP and EP, but they added LP later on.
The
VHS SLP mode was another big question mark in the area of compatibility.
Although JVC was responsible for perfecting the six-hour mode (which they called
�EP�), officials privately commented that tapes made at this speed were
intended only for delayed viewing. They specifically did not guarantee that SLP
tapes made on one VCR would play on another-which indirectly admitted
interchange problems in the slow-speed mode. One reason for this incompatibility
was the problem of belt-driven video head
drums and tape capstans. Belt-drives were notoriously inaccurate when it
came to speed stability; rubber belts could stretch and loosen over a period of
a few months or years, resulting in tapes recorded at speeds so far out of
range, no other VCR could ever hope to play them back properly. Eventually, this
problem was mostly solved by an indus�try-wide switch to direct-drive
motors in the early 1980�s, but SLP tapes are still somewhat difficult to
�track,� even on the best VCRs.. (The lone exception is Panasonic�s
NV-8950, a unique VHS deck fitted with special piezo
video heads, which automatically adjust themselves to track virtually any
videocassette recording. Not widely available, this VCR faded from the market
around 1983, reportedly due to the cost and difficulty of making the piezo
heads.)
Beta
didn�t escape from the demons of tape interchange, either. When the BII mode
was first invented, technical design compro�mises led to the problem of
adjacent track interference, which led to a peculiar �wavy line� effect in
one or more corners of the picture. Adjusting the tracking control could
minimize this interference, but never eliminate it completely. Videophiles
christened this characteristic flaw �The Fingerprint Effect,� since it
resembled a human fingerprint-like smear in the image. Because of the
less-complicated signal processing techniques used in the original BI mode, this
problem has never been visible in Beta recordings at this speed.
Things
only got worse once Beta Hi-Fi arrived on the market in early 1982. Most magazines
extolled the virtues of Beta Hi-Fi�s wide dynamic range and great frequency
response, but sharp-eared videophiles were dismayed to discover the problem of
�Hi-Fi buzz,� technically known as 60-cycle intercarrier interference, where
slight visual tracking instabilities were decoded by the audio circuits as a
nasty, ever-present hum in the stereo soundtrack. This problem was rarely
significant when tapes were played on the same machine on which they were
recorded, but became readily apparent when different VCRs were involved. Minor
tape damage, such as dropouts or creases, resulted in horrible audio distortion,
such as loud pops and bursts of static. Circuit refinements reduced this problem
with the introduction of the SL-2700 in late 1983, but it has never disappeared
completely.
VHS
Hi-Fi, too, had problems of its own. Because JVC opted to use an extra pair of
rotating video heads to record and playback the audio carriers, (necessitated by
a lack of available bandwidth between the luminance and 629 kHz color subcarrier)
the electronic design of their VCRs were initially more costly and complex. JVC
was also embarrassed to discover that, in certain areas, AM radio transmissions
could leak into the Hi-Fi playback circuits, resulting in terrible crosstalk and
noise. VHS Hi-Fi was also susceptible to the same vulnerabilities as Beta Hi-Fi,
particularly in the area of tape scratches and creases. On the plus side, in our
experience, VHS Hi-Fi tapes appear to playback with fewer problems than the
average Beta Hi-Fi cassette, particularly with used rental cassettes, though we
would still consider neither to represent true high-fidelity.
Mode
compatibility was challenged again in early 1985, when Sony modified the
luminance bandwidth of the Beta format to create SuperBeta,
which produced nearly 25% more resolution than the standard BII mode. This
extra emphasis led to slight highlight streaking when SuperBeta tapes were
played back on older Beta decks, but Sony did have the foresight to raise the
luminance bandwidth slightly when Beta Hi-Fi was reduced. As a result, all Beta
Hi-Fi machines could play back SuperBeta tapes without any visual flaws.
Publicly, JVC chided Sony for Beta�s lack of compatibility, again insisting
that VHS had, and would always have, complete compatibility between all machines
in the SP mode. But privately, JVC knew that they had to strike back and show
the world, once and for all, who could produce the best picture quality.
The
answer came in June of 1987 when JVC demonstrated Super
VHS, an advanced new system that leapfrogged beyond the picture quality of
Beta. Like SuperBeta, S-VHS (as it became known) was able to push the luminance
carrier to dizzying heights, thanks to a new video head design and a new, high-coercitivity
tape. While S-VHS� pictures were breathtaking, JVC admitted that S-VHS tapes
were almost totally unwatchable when played on standard VHS machines. Also, in a
behind-the-scenes move probably motivated by JVC�s long-standing disdain for
the LP speed, as inventors and licensees of S-VHS, they dictated that the new
format would never be configured for LP. This effectively killed the LP mode
entirely, though as JVC pointed out, the new S-VHS EP mode produced far better
picture quality than LP ever did. Still, this was of small consolation to loyal
VHS owners.
Despite the initial success of S-VHS, Sony wasn�t going to go down without a fight. In the Summer of 1987, Sony previewed the new ED �Extended Definition� Beta format, which surpassed S-VHS� performance by the use of metal-particle videotape and refined signal processing. While ED Beta appears to again have made Sony a winner in the picture quality department, most experts agree that at this late stage, it�s a Pyrrhic victory, at best. Even more troubling, at press-time [1988] Sony�s U.S. marketing department has made the decision to set the retail cost on the top-of-the-line ED Beta deck at a whopping $3300, which is nearly a thousand dollars more than the original Japanese price. ED Beta�s tapes are equally expensive at nearly $20 per L�500. Early reports indicate that this tactic may only serve to antagonize the few remaining Beta loyalists and possibly drive them into Super VHS, which is considerably less expensive.
BLADES
FOR THE RAZORS
No
story on Beta would be complete without a discussion of the software aspects of
the home video business. At the dawn of the home video age, in late 1975, nobody
could have predicted the incredible success of the movie rental business. The
first real home video software on the market began with Andre Blay�s Magnetic
Video, which licensed fifty feature film titles from 20th Century-Fox in late
1977. Originally, full-speed tapes were offered for both Beta and VHS, along
with BII for Beta, but by 1978 BI was dropped entirely. BII had become the
dominant Beta mode, bringing with it a marginal loss in quality that infuriated
Beta purists.
In
the five years that followed, the video rental business enjoyed sky-high growth,
with sales to dealers going through the roof. Hollywood executives rubbed their
hands with glee, since this totally new market en�abled them to make profits
from films previously looked upon as worthless bombs. Through the rental
industry, home video ultimately transformed into a software-driven
market: many consumers decided to buy VCRs simply to watch the latest films,
and not for time-shifting. This caught a lot of people by surprise, Sony
included. During this embryonic period, Sony made a token effort to keep the
studios interested in offering all titles on Beta, but because of all the
factors relating to the format�s hardware problems, dealers were more and more
reluctant to stock Beta cassettes.
In
1982, Sony made an all-out push to convince the studios to get behind their
newest bombshell: Beta Hi-Fi. They touted Hi-Fi�s many advantages over the
low-fidelity split-track Dolby B stereo used in all VHS releases at the time.
Sony officials smugly predicted that VHS would never be able to match their
achievement because of subtle differences in signal processing between the two
systems, and promised software firms that Beta Hi-Fi would be a hit. For a time,
it was. Throughout 1983, Beta Hi-Fi was well-received by both dealers and the
public, but perhaps because of the unexpected success of budget-priced VHS
decks, Beta sales soon leveled off to
their pre-Hi-Fi numbers. Less than a year later, JVC did the impossible: they
took the wraps off their similarly-named VHS
Hi-Fi system, which altered Beta�s design by using two extra video heads
to record the FM audio signals. Once again, Sony was back to square one.
During
the early 1980�s, Beta started a gradual decline in the software business.
Duplicators began making drastic cutbacks on slave machines, with major
companies like Bell & Howell installing 1000 or more VHS decks for every 100
Beta machines. Dealers began dumping pre-recorded Beta cassettes by the
truckload, and happy Beta customers quickly snapped up these bargains, which
were often sold for as little as $5 per cassette. But the Betaphiles� glee was
short-lived when they discovered, much to their chagrin, that most video stores
had begun selling and renting only VHS software. In less than five years,
pre-recorded Beta cassettes had become �the 8-track of the 80s� � a cruel
misnomer, since 8-track cartridge�s demise was caused mainly by mediocre
fidelity and an inferior technical design � but the ignorant label persisted
in the consumer press.
With
Beta orders dwindling, the Hollywood studios wasted little time in making a
momentous decision: RCA/Columbia was the first to announce they would be cutting
back on Beta releases. [Ironically, Sony bought Columbia Studios in 1990.]
Henceforth, only the biggest box-office films would come out on Beta; older
catalogue items and cult titles would be released only on VHS. Sony went through
the motions of setting up a short-lived direct-sales campaign designed to help
desperate customers order Beta titles through a toll-free number. Sony even went
so far as to establish a video software label of their own, specifically to
release titles on Beta. But this soon became merely a conduit for music video
releases, and Sony was later forced to release these titles on VHS, due to
retailer demand.
By
1987, MCA made a similar announcement cutting back on Beta releases, but with
less fanfare than Columbia. By 1988, this policy had become de rigueur for the
industry, and the flood of Beta software had turned into a trickle. This forced
many Beta owners to buy VHS decks strictly for movie rental, and indeed, most
surveys showed that 90% of most Beta owners also owned at least one other VCR,
usually a VHS deck. And without any software support, no average person would
ever want to invest in a new Beta deck. As a software format, Beta was virtually
extinct.
Looking
back on Beta�s software problems, it�s difficult to say what Sony could have
done to have overcome the inevitable. Someone with exceptional insight might
have been able to predict what would happen with home video rentals back in the
mid �70�s; we know we couldn�t. One possibility might have been for Sony
to adopt the tactic tried by Cartrivision four years before: licensing several
hundred movies and marketing them directly through Sony dealers. They might even
have tried Cartrivision�s approach of sales-only and rental-only titles, using
non-rewinding cassettes for the latter. It�s impossible to say for certain
whether this might have worked during Beta�s infancy, but it could have at
least established a foothold for a more expan�sive move into software as the
years went on.
TO
MARKET, TO MARKET
At
the dawn of the consumer video age, dating back to the earliest meetings between
representatives of the Beta and VHS camps, Sony made a major tactical error in
assuming that their marketing expertise alone was strong enough to make Beta the
dominant format. We feel that this was the
single biggest blunder that directly led to the Beta�s downfall. By
refusing to acquiesce to RCA�s demands for longer-playing time, Sony lost the
support of the number-one TV manufacturer in the U.S. By refusing to license
Hitachi to make Beta, for fear of alienating Matsushita, Sony ultimately wound
up losing support from both firms. Without the support of Matsushita and RCA,
Sony could never recover from the lost momentum. Keep in mind that all of these
events occurred before a single Beta or VHS deck was ever sold to consumers.
Once these seeds were sewn, the end of the battle was essentially over before it
began.
Without
the backing from manufacturers, there would never be as many Beta decks on the
market as VHS. By the same token, VHS held the edge in sheer number of
recognizable brand-names in the U.S. Having more manufacturers also meant that
more dealers would carry VHS than Beta-another crucial advantage that proved to
be a large nail in Sony�s coffin. During this early phase in the home video
industry, Sony made another tactical error in refusing
to expand their dealer network, denying many retailers the opportunity to
sell Beta, which forced them to turn to the enemy camp in search of profits.
There
were other issues as well, such as cosmetics
and cabinet styling. The original circa-1976 Beta decks were large,
bulky units weighing well over 40 Ibs., which required a lot of space and proper
ventilation. Less than a year later, JVC�s original VHS deck shaved more than
ten pounds off Sony�s machine, and was also considerably more attractive. But
it was RCA who really pushed �sex appeal� in their VCRs, making a strong
attempt to make their products attractive to a wide range of people, not just
the typical male buyer.
Price
was, and still is, a major factor in VCR sales. Sony�s Morita had long
expressed his lack of faith in market research, and cited hit products such as
the Walkman and the Trinitron TV as examples of products others said would never
sell. But it was RCA�s research that showed considerable consumer resistance
to VCR pricing over $1000. By barely breaking even on their original VBT-200 and
selling it for $995, RCA was able to make video recorders more affordable to a
wider group of customers in a considerably short time. Eventually, when
manufacturing costs dropped, RCA was able to hold the $1000 figure and make a
decent profit, while Sony was forced to take a deep breath and slash prices in
an effort to stay competitive.
RCA�s
drive and ambition extended to advertising, as well. While Sony�s early
enthusiasm produced some memorable campaigns, such as Count Dracula using his
Sony Betamax to watch daytime shows, RCA�s marketing prowess soon kicked into
high gear. All the early home VCR ads sold home video as a concept, but it was
RCA who pushed their name the strongest.
RCA�s
success annoyed Sony, but it had an even stronger effect on Zenith, then the
number-two TV manufacturer in the U.S. Zenith had signed a five-year contract
with Sony as their OEM (original equipment manufacturer) source, and was
mortified by the immense success of their arch-rivals in Indianapolis. Zenith
strived valiantly to keep up with RCA by trying to compete solely on price, even
going so far as releasing several no-frills BIll-only Beta decks, which cut
corners by leaving out various circuit boards and other components. But Zenith
was ultimately bested by Sanyo, whose Beta VCRs were the cheapest imaginable in
the early 1980�s, making them a top-selling brand for a brief period. It was
all over by late 1983, when Zenith jumped ship and abandoned Beta in favor of
VHS, using Matsushita as an OEM source. Zenith insiders have refused to go into
the specifics of exactly why this came about, but the overall impression is that
the straw that broke their backs was Sony�s habit of selling VCRs to them at
one price, then dropping the cost of the identical model sold under the Sony
brand-name a few months later.
Sony�s
relations with their other Beta licensees weren�t very hospitable, either.
They didn�t always trust them enough to keep them informed of new
technological developments, which sometimes led to embarrassing situations. The
worst of these was the infamous Marantz fiasco in January of 1982, when this
U.S. based-firm introduced a linear split-track Dolby C stereo VCR, with
considerable hoopla. (Projection TV manufacturer Advent showed a similar machine
around the same time, which failed to reach the market.) The Sanyo-built Marantz
VR-200 was virtually obsolete before it was ever shipped, once Beta Hi-Fi was
demonstrated less than six months later. With great embarrassment, Marantz
ultimately dropped the Beta format entirely and went with VHS instead � a
problem which could have been completely avoided had Sony only �come clean�
with Marantz officials earlier.
Another
curious incident took place back in the summer of 1979. Sanyo, previously known
only for their low-ball, inexpensive VCRs, demonstrated the QC-77, a super-deluxe
Beta VCR with wireless remote control, still frame and slow-motion
capability, solenoid operated transport and many other features far more
advanced than Sony�s. For reasons never explained, it never appeared on the
U.S. market, though it enjoyed brisk sales in Europe and Japan. Was it too
advanced for its time? Perhaps. Its failure to appear in the U.S. may have been
because of pressure from Sony Tokyo, but the full story may never be known.
The
increased pressure from the VHS camp produced some strange reactions from Sony.
Beginning in 1983, Sony began to flood the market with too many Beta models,
leading to considerable confusion among both consumers and dealers. At one
point, there were nearly a dozen Sony Betamaxes available, some varying in cost
by only $10, with only the slimmest of visible changes. In retrospect, we feel
that Sony should have had no more than five models placed at specific price
ranges, each tailor-made for a precise market � economy, mid-priced, deluxe,
super-deluxe, and videophile � which would have simplified and streamlined
their product lineup.
The
issue of portable VCR and camcorder
marketing almost deserves an article by itself. Suffice it to say that Sony
met considerable resistance to the original Betamovie
camcorder concept, which first hit the market in May of 1983. In an effort
to make it smaller and lighter, Sony deliberately designed Betamovie without an
electronic viewfinder and the ability to playback its own tapes. Consumers
stayed away from it in droves, and eventually, many Beta owners began buying
full-featured VHS cameras and portables and, later, VHS camcorders.
THE
END OF THE LINE
For
many, the sign that Beta was in its death throes finally came in early January
of 1988. After initially denying the rumors, Sony finally announced they
would be marketing VHS-format VCRs in Japan and Europe by the Spring of 1988.
These machines would be OEM�d from Hitachi, but Sony planned to take over
actual manufacturing of the machines later on this year. The first Sony VHS
machines destined for the U.S. are due to arrive in October [1988], though
there�s no word yet as to who will make them.
Sony
spokespeople have been quick to insist that the addition of VHS is being done
just to satisfy many dealer requests, and that their ongoing development of Beta
won�t cease. Insiders confirm this and have gone so far as to predict that
Sony�s involvement in VHS, at least for the first year or so, will be mainly
in the low-and mid-priced area. They see the high-end market as being dominated
by ED-Beta and other future developments, and so far, we�ve been told not to
expect a Sony S-VHS anytime soon.
In
many ways, it�s a shame. Our top contacts at many of the major electronics
firms agree that if Sony were willing to seriously enter the VHS market instead
of just giving it lip service, they might well become the number three or even
the number two VCR maker in the world. It�s exciting to speculate on a
fully-featured, state-of-the-art Sony consumer S-VHS deck-say, an editing
machine with Beta-style loading, a jog/shuttle knob and flying-erase heads-a
high-performance machine which could easily blow away such comparatively meager
competition as JVC�s HR-S7000 and Mitsubishi�s HS-423. Such a VCR, providing
the best features of past Beta machines with the quality and compatibility of
VHS, would undoubtedly be a top-seller. Sony might even go a step further and
sell companion ED-Beta and 8mm decks with similar features, allowing
uncompromised interformat editing at an affordable price. The mind boggles at
the possibilities. But Sony�s pride and their continuing reliance on 8mm and
ED-Beta may prevent them from entering the S-VHS market,-no matter how
profitable it may be. [Sony eventually became one of the top three VHS
manufacturing and marketing firms during the 1990s, and did successfully create
several very good S-VHS decks, both consumer and industrial.]
We�ve
occasionally daydreamed as to how very different the world of consumer
electronics would have been if we could harness Marty McFly�s time machine
from Back to the Future and bring an
SL-HF1000 and a JVC HR-S7000 S-VHS deck to Mr. Morita�s office in 1974 and
show him what was in store for Sony and the Beta format in the decade and a half
that were to follow. No doubt even Morita would be astonished by the great
technological achievements of both Sony and JVC over the years. In retrospect,
though, even JVC would have to admit that the competition between the two
formats has been good for the entire industry. If Sony�s Beta had never
existed, we might never have seen such developments as VHS HQ, VHS Hi-Fi and
Super VHS. For all we know, we�d be using slightly spiffier, less-expensive
versions of the old, clunky HR-3300!
But
enough conjecture. For now, we�d like to make a fond farewell to Beta. While
it may survive a few more years, Sony�s struggle to make Beta achieve
mass-market success has ended, with VHS the winner and still champion. But
VHS� days are numbered, too. Sony has already announced the development of a
new digital consumer video format, which may hit the market by the early
1990�s. We�ll hope that this time all the consumer electronics companies
will bury the hatchet-and not in each other-and unite together on a single new
format, and learn from the mistakes of history.
References:
Many
hundreds of articles and interviews were distilled and utilized in the
preparation of this story, but the works below were, by far, the most
significant.
Graham,
Margaret � �RCA and the Videodisc: The Business of Research,� Cambridge
University Press (Cambridge, England: 1986)
Lardner,
James � Fast Forward: Hollywood, the Japanese, and the Onslaught of the
VCR,� W.W. Norton & Co. (New York: 1987)
Lyons,
Nick � �The Sony Vision,� Crown Publishers (New York: 1976)
Morita,
Akio with Edwin M. Reingold and Mitsuko Shimomura � �Made in Japan:
Akio Morita and Sony,� E.P. Dutton (New York: 1986)
Nayak,
P. Ranganath, Ph.D. and John M. Ketteringham, Ph.D. � �Breakthroughs!,�
Rawson Associates (New York: 1986)
Special
thanks go to Michael Heiss, for many years Videography
magazine�s West Cost correspondent, who provided several insights and some
of the background materials for this story.
We
also want to acknowledge the work of Ken Winslow of Videoplay
Report and also AI Preiss of TV
International, both of whom were instrumental in documenting the embryonic
history of home video, circa 1968-1980. We were proud to know both of these men,
and regret that neither lived to see the end of the Beta story.
Lastly,
our special regards must also go to the hard-working men and women at Sony and
other companies who also helped shed some light on this fascinating subject,
who, by the nature of their comments, must remain nameless. Thank you, one and
all.
Used
with permission of the authors.
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