Android failed to revive BlackBerry's dying phone brand

When BlackBerry launched the Priv, the overseas media gushed. That was something we hadn’t seen for a decade.

On paper, the Priv looked different from the endless parade of me-too Androids trying to knock Samsung off its perch.

It came with a touch-sensitive QWERTY keyboard that slid from the case — a BlackBerry signature touch. There was BlackBerry’s enterprise-grade software, security tools and its clever unified messaging hub — features that once made the brand a darling of business users.

On paper the phone packed top-end hardware: a 5.4-inch curved display, 1440 × 2560 resolution, more than 500 pixels per inch and an 18-megapixel rear camera. The price was just as high-end at around NZ$1275.

The pitch was simple: overlay BlackBerryness on top of a Google-backed version of Android. Run all the apps users craved, but keep the productivity and security IT managers loved.

Too little, too late

It could have been the right strategy, but it was two years too late. BlackBerry’s decline started when it doubled down on its own operating system, BB10, instead of embracing Android after the iPhone swept the market.

BB10 had strengths. It was secure, with a central hub for calls, mail and messages. It came bundled with enterprise tools: VPN authentication, remote management, secure document handling. CIOs loved the business-first thinking.

But users didn’t. The interface was idiosyncratic, switching from iOS or Android was jarring. And the lack of native apps was fatal. Workarounds for Android apps were patchy at best. Consumers wanted Instagram, Snapchat and mobile banking, not VPN tools.

The bring-your-own-device trend accelerated the shift. Companies might fleet-buy BlackBerrys, but workers given a choice picked Apple or Samsung. Productivity features came a distant second to photos, social and entertainment.

BlackBerry picked the wrong battlefield

Going “all-in” on Android with the Priv sounded logical. But the Android market was already a bloodbath.

There were NZ$800 Android phones that did 95 percent of what NZ$1400 models could manage. The result: Android made up 80 percent of sales but less than 20 percent of profits.

Then, as now, Samsung was the dominant brand, and it even licensed some of the very security and enterprise features BlackBerry claimed as unique. Competing meant matching Samsung’s marketing budget and distribution muscle. BlackBerry didn’t have deep enough pockets.

At best, the Priv looked like a toe-in-the-water exercise or a way to showcase software in the hope of morphing into a services company.

The outcome

It didn't take long for reality to hit. Juniper Research reported BlackBerry sold only 734,000 phones in the final quarter of 2015, a total of 3.7 million for the year. The company had set a target of five million annually.

That’s a rounding error in a global market of 1.4 billion phones. Even Microsoft did better with Windows Phone, selling 4.5 million in the same year, though its share also collapsed 57 percent.

Elsewhere, Sony and HTC both saw sales fall more than a third year-on-year. Apple still grew, but warned of slowing demand. Samsung, the biggest player, inched ahead by a single percent.

It was clear the Priv wasn’t going to be the device that brought BlackBerry back.

After the Priv

The Priv didn’t save BlackBerry’s phone business. At best, it bought a little more time.

By then the company was already moving toward a software-first strategy, releasing messaging and security apps for other platforms. That was the logical next step: build on its reputation in enterprise software rather than fight for scraps in the hardware market.

The lesson was simple. Switching operating systems wasn’t enough. The smartphone world had moved on, and the consumer battleground was already lost.

BlackBerry Priv's legacy

The BlackBerry Priv was an interesting device. It had a clever design, strong specs and enterprise DNA. But it arrived late, landed in the wrong market, and asked users to care about features they no longer valued.

Android couldn’t save BlackBerry any more than it could save Microsoft’s phone ambitions. Both companies were better off as software makers than as phone brands.