THIS IS THE ALLEGED
ARTICLE: ALL CONTENT COPYRIGHT TIMES NEWS CORPORATION:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
IT' REVEALED
By: The RealGinger
'SEGWAY' SELF-BALANCING PEOPLE MOVER, BILLED
AS ALTERNATIVE TO CARS
After
months of hype, an inventor is set to unveil an electric scooter being billed as
an environmentally friendly alternative to cars.
Dean Kamen's long-awaited, secret invention, the Segway "will be
to the car what the car was to the horse and buggy," he tells TIME
on the eve of his product's unveiling.
Kamen imagines them everywhere: in parks and at Disneyland, on battlefields and
factory floors, but especially on downtown sidewalks from Seattle to Shanghai.
"Cars are great for going long distances," Kamen says, "but it
makes no sense at all for people in cities to use a 4,000-lb. piece of metal to
haul their 150-lb asses around town."
In the future he envisions, cars will be banished from urban centers to make
room for millions of "empowered pedestrians" - empowered, naturally,
by Kamen's brainchild, reports John Heilemann in next week's issue.
The invention is set to be unveiled Monday morning during ABC's GOOD MORNING
AMERICA.
MORE
The Segway is a self-balancing people mover - powered by batteries and
controlled by tilt-sensors and five solid state gyroscopes - that looks like a
rotary lawnmower. The magic is in the balancing act ð no matter how hard you
try, it won't let you fall.
For the past three months, Kamen allowed TIME behind the veil of secrecy as he
and his team grappled with the questions that they will confront - about
everything from safety and pricing to the challenges of launching a product with
the country at war and the economy in recession.
There is no denying that the Segway, previously code-named "IT" and
"Ginger," is an engineering marvel, reports Heilemann, who rode on the
machine many times. Developed at a cost of more than $100 million, Kamenis
vehicle is a complex bundle of hardware and software that mimics the human body
is the ability to maintain its balance. Not only does it have no brakes, but
also no engine, no throttle, no gearshift, and no steering wheel. And it can
carry the average rider for a full day, nonstop, on only five cents' worth of
electricity.
Kamen explains how the Segway works: "When you walk, you're really in what
is called a controlled fall. You off-balance yourself, putting one foot in front
of the other and falling onto them over and over again. In the same way, when
you use a Segway, thereis a gyroscope that acts like your inner ear, a computer
that acts like your brain, motors that act like your muscles, wheels that act
like your feet. Suddenly, you feel like you have on a pair of magic sneakers,
and instead of falling forward, you go sailing across the room."
As Kamen and his team were working on the IBOT wheelchair ð a six-wheel machine
that goes up and down curbs, cruises effortlessly through sand or gravel, and
climbs stairs - it dawned on them that they were onto something bigger. "We
realized we could build a device using very similar technology that could impact
how everybody gets around," he says. The IBOT was also the source of
Gingeris mysterious codename. "Watching the IBOT, we used to say, ÈLook at
that light, graceful robot, dancing up the stairsiÐso we started referring to
it as Fred Upstairs, after Fred Astaire," Kamen recalls. "After we
built Fred, it was only natural to name its smaller partner Ginger." With
Ginger, as with the IBOT, Kamen explains, "the big idea is to put a human
being into a system where the machine acts an extension of your body."
With the Segway, Kamen plans to change the world by changing how cities are
organized. To Kamenis way of thinking, the problem is the automobile.
"Cities need cars like fish need bicycles," he says. Segways, he
believes, are ideal for downtown transportation. Unlike cars, they are cheap,
clean, efficient, maneuverable. Unlike bicycles, they are designed specifically
to be pedestrian friendly. "A bike is too slow and light to mix with trucks
in the street but too large and fast to mix with pedestrians on the
sidewalk," he argues. "Our machine is compatible with the sidewalk. If
a Segway hits you, itis like being hit by another pedestrian."
Ordinary consumers wonit be able to buy Segways for at least a year, a consumer
model is expected to go on sale for about $3,000, Heilemann reports. For now,
the first customers will be deep-pocketed institutions such as the U.S. Postal
Service and General Electric, the National Parks Service and Amazon.comÐ
institutions capable of shelling out $8,000 apiece for industrial-strength
models.
TIME also takes a hard look at the question of whether this product will really
make it in the consumer market. "The consumer market is always
harder," Intel chairman Andy Grove, who also rode the Segway, told
Heilemann. "But when you think about it, the corporate market is almost
unlimited. If the Postal Service and FedEx deploy this for all their carriers,
the company will be busy for the next five years just keeping up with that
demand."
PART I - THE TIME ARTICLE
Reinventing the Wheel
BY JOHN HEILEMANN

Here "it" is: the inside story of the secret invention that so many
are buzzing about. Could this thing really change the world?
GREGORY HEISLER FOR TIME
Dean's Machine: Will cities allow it to share the sidewalk with pedestrians?
Sunday, Dec. 02, 2001
"Come to me!"
On a quiet Sunday morning in Silicon Valley, I am standing atop a machine
code-named Ginger--a machine that may be the most eagerly awaited and wildly, if
inadvertently, hyped high-tech product since the Apple Macintosh. Fifty feet
away, Ginger's diminutive inventor, Dean Kamen, is offering instruction on how
to use it, which in this case means waving his hands and barking out orders.
"Just lean forward," Kamen commands, so I do, and instantly I start
rolling across the concrete right at him.
"Now, stop," Kamen says. How? This thing has no brakes. "Just
think about stopping." Staring into the middle distance, I conjure an image
of a red stop sign--and just like that, Ginger and I come to a halt.
"Now think about backing up." Once again, I follow instructions, and
soon I glide in reverse to where I started. With a twist of the wrist, I
pirouette in place, and no matter which way I lean or how hard, Ginger refuses
to let me fall over. What's going on here is all perfectly explicable--the
machine is sensing and reacting to subtle shifts in my balance--but for the
moment I am slack-jawed, baffled. It was Arthur C. Clarke who famously observed
that "any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from
magic." By that standard, Ginger is advanced indeed.
Since last January it has also been the tech world's most-speculated-about
secret. That was when a book proposal about Ginger, a.k.a. "IT," got
leaked to the website Inside.com. Kamen had been working on Ginger for more than
a decade, and although the author (with whom the inventor is no longer
collaborating) never revealed what Ginger was, his precis included over-the-top
assessments from some of Silicon Valley's mightiest kingpins. As big a deal as
the PC, said Steve Jobs; maybe bigger than the Internet, said John Doerr, the
venture capitalist behind Netscape, Amazon.com and now Ginger.
In a heartbeat, hundreds of stories full of fevered theorizing gushed forth in
the press. Ginger was a hydrogen-powered hovercraft. Or a magnetic antigravity
device. Or, closer to the mark, a souped-up scooter. Even the reprobates at
South Park got into the act, spoofing Ginger in a recent episode--the details of
which, sadly, are unprintable in a family magazine.
This week the guessing game comes to an end as Kamen unveils his baby under its
official name: Segway. Given the buildup, some are bound to be disappointed.
("It won't beam you to Mars or turn lead into gold," shrugs Kamen.
"So sue me.") But there is no denying that the Segway is an
engineering marvel. Developed at a cost of more than $100 million, Kamen's
vehicle is a complex bundle of hardware and software that mimics the human
body's ability to maintain its balance. Not only does it have no brakes, it also
has no engine, no throttle, no gearshift and no steering wheel. And it can carry
the average rider for a full day, nonstop, on only five cents' worth of
electricity.
The commercial ambitions of Kamen and his team are as advanced as their
technical virtuosity. By stealing a slice of the $300 billion-plus
transportation industry, Doerr predicts, the Segway Co. will be the fastest
outfit in history to reach $1 billion in sales. To get there, the firm has
erected a 77,000-sq.-ft. factory a few miles from its Manchester, N.H.,
headquarters that will be capable of churning out 40,000 Segways a month by the
end of next year.
Kamen's aspirations are even grander than that. He believes the Segway
"will be to the car what the car was to the horse and buggy." He
imagines them everywhere: in parks and at Disneyland, on battlefields and
factory floors, but especially on downtown sidewalks from Seattle to Shanghai.
"Cars are great for going long distances," Kamen says, "but it
makes no sense at all for people in cities to use a 4,000-lb. piece of metal to
haul their 150-lb. asses around town." In the future he envisions, cars
will be banished from urban centers to make room for millions of "empowered
pedestrians"--empowered, naturally, by Kamen's brainchild.
Kamen's dream of a Segway-saturated world won't come true overnight. In fact,
ordinary folks won't be able to buy the machines for at least a year, when a
consumer model is expected to go on sale for about $3,000. For now, the first
customers to test the Segway will be deep-pocketed institutions such as the U.S.
Postal Service and General Electric, the National Parks Service and Amazon.com--institutions
capable of shelling out about $8,000 apiece for industrial-strength models. And
Kamen's dreamworld won't arrive at all unless he and his team can navigate the
array of obstacles that are sure to be thrown up by competitors and ever
cautious regulators.
For the past three months, Kamen has allowed TIME behind the veil of secrecy as
he and his team grappled with the questions that they will confront--about
everything from safety and pricing to the challenges of launching a product with
the country at war and the economy in recession. Some of their answers were
smooth and assured; others less polished. But one thing was clear. As Kamen sees
it, all these issues will quickly fade if the question most people ask about the
Segway is "How do I get one?"
Fred and Ginger
The world of technology has never been short of eccentrics and obsessives, of
rich, brilliant oddballs with strange habits and stranger hobbies. But even in
this crowd, Dean Kamen stands out. The 50-year-old son of a comic-book artist,
he is a college dropout, a self-taught physicist and mechanical engineer with a
handful of honorary doctorates, a multimillionaire who wears the same outfit for
every occasion: blue jeans, a blue work shirt and a pair of Timberland boots.
With the accent of his native Long Island, he speaks slowly, passionately--and
endlessly. "If you ask Dean the time," Doerr chides, "he'll first
explain the theory of general relativity, then how to build an atomic clock, and
then, maybe, he'll tell you what time it is."
A bachelor, Kamen lives near Manchester in a hexagonally shaped, 32,000-sq.-ft.
house he designed. Outside, there's a giant wind turbine to generate power and a
fully lighted baseball diamond; in the basement, a foundry and a machine shop.
Kamen's vehicles include a Hummer, a Porsche and two helicopters--both of which
he helped design and one of which he uses to commute to work each day. He also
owns an island off the coast of Connecticut. He calls it North Dumpling, and he
considers it a sovereign state. It has a flag, a navy, a currency (one bill has
the value of pi) and a mutual nonaggression pact with the U.S., signed by Kamen
and the first President Bush (as a joke, we think).
But if Kamen's personality is half Willy Wonka, the other half is closer to
Thomas Edison. While he was still struggling in college, Kamen invented the
first drug-infusion pump, which enabled doctors to deliver steady, reliable
doses to patients. In the years that followed, he invented the first portable
insulin pump, the first portable dialysis machine and an array of heart stents,
one of which now resides inside Vice President Dick Cheney. This string of
successes established Kamen's reputation, made him wealthy and turned DEKA
Research--the R.-and-D. lab he founded nearly 20 years ago, in which he and 200
engineers work along the banks of the Merrimack River--into a kind of Mecca for
medical-device design.
The seeds of Ginger were planted at DEKA by what had previously been Kamen's
best-known project: the IBOT wheelchair. Developed for and funded by Johnson
& Johnson, the IBOT is Kamen's bid to "give the disabled the same kind
of mobility the rest of us take for granted"--a six-wheel machine that goes
up and down curbs, cruises effortlessly through sand or gravel, and even climbs
stairs. More amazing still, the IBOT features something called standing mode, in
which it rises up on its wheels and lifts its occupant to eye level while
maintaining balance with such stability that it can't be knocked over even by a
violent shove. Kamen gets annoyed when the IBOT is called a wheelchair. It is,
he says, "the world's most sophisticated robot."
As Kamen and his team were working on the IBOT, it dawned on them that they were
onto something bigger. "We realized we could build a device using very
similar technology that could impact how everybody gets around," he says.
The IBot was also the source of Ginger's mysterious code name. "Watching
the IBOT, we used to say, 'Look at that light, graceful robot, dancing up the
stairs'--so we started referring to it as Fred Upstairs, after Fred Astaire,"
Kamen recalls. "After we built Fred, it was only natural to name its
smaller partner Ginger."
With Ginger, as with the IBOT,
Kamen explains, "the big idea is to put a human being into a system where
the machine acts as an extension of your body." On first inspection,
balancing on Ginger seems only slightly more feasible than balancing on a
barbell. But what Kamen is talking about is the way Ginger does the balancing
for you. Lean forward, go forward; lean back, go back; turn by twisting your
wrist. The experience is the same going uphill, downhill or across any kind of
terrain--even ice. It is nothing like riding a bike or a motorcycle. Instead, in
the words of Vern Loucks, the former chairman of Baxter International and a
Segway board member, "it's like skiing without the snow."
Exactly how the Segway achieves this effect isn't easy to explain; Kamen's first
stab at it involves a blizzard of equations.
Eventually, though, he offers this: "When you walk, you're really in what's
called a controlled fall. You off-balance yourself, putting one foot in front of
the other and falling onto them over and over again. In the same way, when you
use a Segway, there's a gyroscope that acts like your inner ear, a computer that
acts like your brain, motors that act like your muscles, wheels that act like
your feet. Suddenly, you feel like you have on a pair of magic sneakers, and
instead of falling forward, you go sailing across the room."
Pulling off this trick requires an unholy amount of computer power. In every
Segway there are 10 microprocessors cranking out three PCs' worth of juice. Also
a cluster of aviation-grade gyros, an accelerometer, a bevy of sensors, two
batteries and software so sophisticated it puts Microsoft to shame. If Kamen
gets irked when the IBOT is called a wheelchair, imagine his pique when--if--the
Segway is called a scooter.
Fish and Bicycles
The possibility that the segway will be viewed as simply a high-end toy, a jet
ski on wheels, is one of Kamen's greatest concerns, especially after Sept. 11.
He wants his machine taken seriously, as a serious solution to serious problems.
That anxiety was one of the reasons he and his team decided to concentrate at
first on major corporations, universities and government agencies--large, solid,
established institutions--rather than dive straight into the consumer
marketplace.
Whether such institutions would embrace Segways, however, was an open question.
Before last January's leak, Kamen had demoed his invention only when absolutely
necessary, or for luminaries such as Steve Jobs and Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos. After
the leak, he became even pickier. He entertained the Postmaster General, who was
keen to put letter carriers on Segways, and the head of the National Parks
Service, who wanted to do the same with park rangers and police. (Both are among
Segway's first customers.) Kamen also stirred up interest at the
Department of Defense, which was intrigued by the notion of giving Segways to
special forces, and at Federal Express. But few other potential customers were
allowed to pass through DEKA's tightly sealed doors.
A few weeks ago, with the launch approaching, Kamen began to let some others in.
The Boston police department sent a clutch of cops to Manchester. The city of
Atlanta sent a contingent of city planners. And Thanksgiving week, Kamen took
his act to California. In one jam-packed day in Silicon Valley, he revealed the
Segway to officials from San Francisco International Airport, the California
department of transportation, the city of Palo Alto, Stanford University and
Cisco Systems CEO John Chambers. Especially gratifying to Kamen was the reaction
of Andy Grove, the chairman of Intel and, unlike so many Silicon Valley
boosters, a bone-deep skeptic. Perched tentatively on the machine, the
65-year-old Grove was rolling slowly along when Doerr ambled over and pushed him
in the chest. When the Segway kept him from losing his balance, Grove emitted a
distinctly un-Grove-like giggle. "The machine is gorgeous," he said
later. "I'm no good at balancing; it would take me a hundred years to learn
to snowboard. This took me less than five minutes."
I asked Grove what he thought of the Segway as a business. "The consumer
market is always harder," he said. "But when you think about it, the
corporate market is almost unlimited. If the Postal Service and FedEx deploy
this for all their carriers, the company will be busy for the next five years
just keeping up with that demand."
A patient entrepreneur would revel in that assessment. But Kamen is a man
running short on patience. For him, conquering the corporate market is merely a
prelude to the battle to come. "The consumer market is where the big money
is," says Michael Schmertzler, a Credit Suisse First Boston managing
director and, with Doerr, Segway's other major financial backer. "But this
is about more than money for Dean. Pardon the cliche, but he really does want to
change the world."
With the Segway, Kamen plans to change the world by changing how cities are
organized. To Kamen's way of thinking, the problem is the automobile.
"Cities need cars like fish need bicycles," he says. Segways, he
believes, are ideal for downtown transportation. Unlike cars, they are cheap,
clean, efficient, maneuverable. Unlike bicycles, they are designed specifically
to be pedestrian friendly. "A bike is too slow and light to mix with trucks
in the street but too large and fast to mix with pedestrians on the
sidewalk," he argues. "Our machine is compatible with the sidewalk. If
a Segway hits you, it's like being hit by another pedestrian." By traveling
at three or four times walking speed, and thus turning what would have been a
30-minute walk into a 10-minute ride, Kamen contends, Segways will in effect
shrink cities to the point where cars "will not only be undesirable, but
unnecessary."
Kamen isn't so naive as to underestimate America's long-standing romance with
the automobile. ("I love cars too," he says. "Just not when I'm
downtown.") And he is well aware that uprooting the vast urban
infrastructure that supports cars, from parking garages to bridges and tunnels,
won't happen soon. Which is why he has pinned his greatest hopes not on the U.S.
but abroad, especially in the developing world. At a meeting with Jobs a year
ago, the Apple co-founder proclaimed, in typically hyperbolic fashion, "If
enough people see this machine, you won't have to convince them to architect
cities around it; it'll just happen."
Kamen agrees. "Most people in the developing world can't afford cars, and
if they could, it would be a complete disaster," he says. "If you were
building one of the new cities of China, would you do it the way we have?
Wouldn't it make more sense to build a mass-transit system around the city and
leave the central couple of square miles for pedestrians only?" Pedestrians
and people riding Segways, that is.
"There's no question in my mind that we have the right answer," he
continues. "I would stake my reputation, my money and my time on the fact
that 10 years from now, this will be the way many people in many places get
around." Kamen pauses and sighs. "If all we end up with are a few
billion-dollar niche markets, that would be a disappointment. It's not like our
goal was just to put the golf-cart industry out of business."
Remember Tucker?
One of the hardest truths for any technologist to hear is that success or
failure in business is rarely determined by the quality of the technology.
Betamax was better than VHS; the Mac operating system is superior to Windows.
Even in the transportation business, there is the cautionary tale of Preston
Tucker, who in the 1940s designed a "car of the future" packed with
such safety innovations as a padded dashboard, disk brakes and safety glass--a
car so far ahead of its time that only 51 were ever produced. In fact, the
annals of high-tech history contain remarkably few cases in which the most
innovative technology has emerged triumphant in the marketplace.
This is the sort of thing that keeps Kamen up at night. There are countless
others. High on the list are congenitally skittish regulators who will decide if
the Segway is safe and if it will be allowed to roll on sidewalks.
Kamen maintains, with characteristic chutzpah, that Segways are "even safer
than walking." Only slightly less emphatic, and slightly more plausible,
was the verdict of the Consumer Product Safety Commission, which began reviewing
the device last May. According to Ron Medford, a senior CPSC official, the
Segway has "safety features that are far more substantial than we normally
see in a consumer product--features closer to those associated with medical
devices." (Medford, it must be said, was so impressed that he is taking a
sabbatical at DEKA, though he remains on the government's payroll.) To make the
machine even safer, it comes equipped with three computerized keys that set
speed and performance limits. The slowest setting, now called training mode,
used to be jokingly referred to around DEKA as CEO mode.
The sidewalk issue is dicier. In order to ensure that Segways are permitted to
move alongside pedestrians, Kamen's regulatory-affairs mavens will have to keep
the machine from being classified either as a motor vehicle or as a scooter. At
the federal level, the deal is done--though, for a while, the Occupational
Safety and Health Administration wanted to classify the Segway as a
"powered industrial truck." Technically, final sidewalk authority
rests with state and local governments. Kamen is betting, however, that the
decision will be made not by lawmakers but "de facto, by what becomes
standard practice. If we have police and mail carriers riding on the sidewalks
for a year, how is anyone in government going to say, 'It's O.K. for us but not
O.K. for you'?"
No matter how inherently safe Segways may be, someone, somewhere is going to
kill himself on one. "It's inevitable," says Gary Bridge, Segway's
marketing chief. "I dread that day." Never mind that people die every
day on bicycles, in crosswalks, on skateboards, in cars. The Segway is the
newest new thing, and nothing does more to set hearts afire on the
contingency-fee bar. "There are some very deep pockets around this
thing," remarks Andy Grove. "I fear this could be a litigation
lightning rod."
Not to mention a lightning rod for fierce competition. Although Kamen trashes
the automobile at every opportunity and is plotting a future in which cars are
barred from cities, he insists that the Big Three and their brethren will see
the Segway as no threat. "Nobody in America or any developed nation will
buy one of these instead of buying a car," he says. "People will buy
these in addition to owning a car." But a former top auto executive thinks
Kamen is kidding himself--or kidding me. "The car companies track market
share by one one-hundredths of a percentage point," he says. "They're
incredibly sensitive on that front, and this is going to dent somebody's market
share."
Even if the auto barons leave the Segway alone, other players are unlikely to be
so forgiving. When Kamen and his lieutenants draw up lists of probable rivals,
companies in other branches of the transportation industry--firms that make
ATVs, motorcycles, scooters, even snowmobiles--are near the top. But the lists
have been long and varied, including a raft of appliance makers, engineering
companies and, especially, consumer-electronics giants, such as Sony. Kamen's
team is confident it has a long technological lead, as well as patents on most
of its key innovations. "Reverse engineering this thing won't be
easy," says Schmertzler. "This is not a pet rock." Yet if the
Segway is a runaway hit, you can bet that a flood of knock-offs--much less
sophisticated but also much cheaper--will soon wash over the market.
Will the Segway be a runaway hit? A device that reduces the need for walking,
one of the healthiest activities known to man, may strike many people as the
last thing our culture needs. (Kamen scoffs, "Because I give kids
calculators doesn't make them stupider.") And three grand may strike many
others as an awful lot to pay for something they've managed so far to live
happily without. John Doerr, who helped bankroll Compaq in the infant days of
the personal-computer industry, points out that the first PCs cost $3,000 to
$5,000. The analogy is worth pondering. The brave souls who bought those early
PCs were willing to cough up big bucks not simply to own computers that were
small and powerful but also to be part of a kind of revolutionary vanguard. Will
consumers today make the same calculation about the Segway?
If it's seen as sufficiently cool, they might. But here Segway faces a
double-edged sword. If not for the media frenzy a year ago, Kamen and his
invention would be receiving a good deal less attention. At the same time, that
frenzy ginned up expectations so absurdly extravagant that they will be hard to
live up to. There is a very real possibility that for those whose only
experience of the Segway is on TV or in the press, the reaction to it may boil
down to five lethal words: Is that all it is? And that possibility is only
enhanced by the fact that to many eyes giving the photos only a cursory glance,
a Segway doesn't look like a revolution. It looks...well, sorta like a scooter.
But looks can be misleading, as anyone who's ridden a Segway can attest. Just
ask Jeff Bezos. On a rainy morning in Seattle recently, Bezos dropped in at a
meeting between Kamen, his team and a pair of Amazon execs. The meeting was
being held in an Amazon "pick and pack" facility--a warehouse in which
employees pick stock from shelves and pack it in boxes for shipment to
customers. Kamen had come to sell Amazon some Segways by demonstrating that they
would, as Bezos put it, "improve our picking productivity."
Like Grove, Bezos is confident that Segway will make a mint selling to the
corporate market; also like Grove, he is less certain about its consumer
prospects. "At Amazon, we didn't know at first, and nobody knew, whether
people would want to buy books online, and the same is true for whether people
will want to ride these," he says. "Walking is a superb mechanism for
getting around--I don't see it being replaced anytime soon. And for long hauls,
driving is darn good too. The question is whether there's a middle ground, some
intermediate zone where these would be better than all the alternatives?"
Just then, Kamen rides up and hands his Segway over to Bezos. As the Amazon boss
races madly around the warehouse, hooting and cackling and flapping his arms,
someone yells out, "Yo, Jeff, what were you saying about the consumer
market?" Whizzing past, Bezos shouts back, "There's definitely at
least a consumer market of one!"