Sinclair and the 'Sunrise' Technology: The Deconstruction of a Myth (17 page)

In the Corporation’s defence, it must be said that the BBC has always been perfectly clear about why it opted for the Acorn product rather than any development of the ZX81. In an interview given in March 1982, Paul Kriwaczek, producer of the Corporation’s Computer Programme, was explicit about his reservations when faced with the Sinclair alternative:

I would have been very reluctant for the BBC to sell something like the Sinclair [ZX81] because it is so limited. The Sinclair cannot be expanded; it is fundamentally a throwaway consumer product. Its usefulness is in learning about programming, but I do not believe that the future of computers lies in everyone learning to program in BASIC. (Your Computer, March 1982.)

In the event, Kriwaczek’s laudable, if stolid, series did little more than preach the wonders of computing to the converted. Nevertheless, as far as Acorn Computers were concerned, the BBC’s sanction facilitated a market penetration for the Proton that transcended the limitations of promotional resource. More importantly, however, the precise product definition outlined in the BBC/Acorn contract ensured the creation of an unusually sophisticated microcomputer. Certainly the BBC Micro’s facilities were considerably more advanced than the expectations of the average consumer. In short, Acorn’s contract with the BBC forced Curry’s company to create a product whose capabilities exceeded the demands of the market.

It should be stressed that price differentials ensured that Acorn’s success with the BBC Micro had little effect on the impact of either The ZX81 or its successor. Although 1982-4 was a period of gestural confrontation between Sinclair and Curry, in the commercial arena their products complemented one another rather more than they competed. The significance of the BBC Micro is not that it offered an alternative to the ZX81 or the Spectrum but that it played a major role in establishing high standards for future developments in the market. Just as Sinclair used the ZX80 to redefine consumer expectations of a micro until they described the product he could profitably market, Acorn’s machine upgraded the image of a home computer to the point where the effects of economies in Sinclair design became commercially unacceptable.

Curry’s coup seems to have strengthened Sinclair’s resolve more than it thwarted his ambitions. As his media image developed, Sinclair has increasingly resisted the mantle of technocrat in favour of the satisfying compleat image of the renaissance man. A couple of months after Acorn’s deal with the BBC, Sinclair comforted himself by turning one of his many non-technical predilections into a commercial venture. In June 1981, the Sinclair-Browne publishing company was formed. The aim of the venture was to subsidize and promote new writing of social significance, and an annual award was announced that would recognize the efforts of writers who satisfied the corporate ideal.

One of the inevitable consequences of the Acorn-BBC deal was that it gave Curry’s company an advantage in the education market. In an effort to dilute the Acorn lead, Sinclair Research initiated an extensive promotion offering secondary schools a ZX81 and a 16K RAM memory pack at 46 per cent discount. Still ignorant about the implications of computing in general, and constrained by the limitations of their budgets, most local authorities chose to ignore Sinclair’s generous offer.

Although the BBC affair was undoubtedly a galling setback for Sinclair, as far as his company was concerned it seemed that anything was possible. In October 1981 Sinclair Research signed a distribution deal with Mitsui, and over the next twelve months sold more computers in Japan than the combined efforts of the home-based competition. In December of the same year, computer giant ICL announced that it had signed a licensing deal with Sinclair’s company. Sinclair BASIC and the yet-to-be-developed flat-screen technology was to serve as the basis of ICL’s ‘One-Per-Desk’ workstation project.

In two hectic years, Sinclair’s hesitant and decidedly unconventional steps into the world of microcomputing had reaped the rewards of a virgin market. In March 1982, Sinclair Research announced profits of £8.55m on a turnover of £27.17m Sinclair awarded himself a bonus of £1m on top of his salary of £13,000. But Clive’s public had little interest in the success of his company or of the rewards dished out to its founder. Like the man himself, it was primarily concerned with the Sinclair response to the Acorn challenge. The following extract from a Personal Computer World feature (December 1981) sets the scene:

Quite why Sinclair, with a proven record of producing cheap computers, didn’t get the [BBC] contract ... will probably never be known ... Could Sinclair produce a BBC-compatible machine which would undersell the ‘official’ micro? Yes, he has the nous, the resources and the access to the necessary production capacity, together with an already established mail-order marketing set-up ... But whether he’ll do it or not, he’s not saying right now.

As we shall see, Sinclair had decided to capitalize on the success of his existing product, rather than challenge the Acorn machine on its own terms. By the time PCW published its speculations, the development of Sinclair’s sequel to the ZX81 was essentially complete. The product in question was the ZX Spectrum.

[7] THE SPECTRUM OF SUCCESS

As we saw in the last chapter, the launch of the ZX81 initiated a computing fever which swept the country. Although to outsiders its arrival appeared as sudden and inexplicable as skateboards or breakdancing, micro mania was subtly different from the run-of-the-mill social fad. For a start, although the majority of enthusiasts fell into the mid-teen to early twenties age group, a significant number were of an age that generally manages to resist the lure of more ephemeral fashions. An unusual number of parents fell under the spell of the machines they bought for their children. A less positive (and rarely mentioned) characteristic of the boom was that its supporters were almost exclusively male.

Unlike most teen-dominated movements, it was difficult for the rest of the world to ignore or disapprove of the computing obsession. Partly because of its mystique and partly because of the support of the schools, there was a vague but compelling pressure to encourage an interest in computing. Although in the end most home microcomputers were exclusively applied to running arcade games, they were nevertheless regarded as inherently educational. Predictably, this misapprehension was milked for all it was worth by the manufacturers. Any parents without a micro in their home were made to feel that they were impeding their children’s future employment prospects. Being shunned by the BBC may well have been a blow to Sinclair’s pride, but more important was the loss of state sanction invaluable to the exploitation of the ‘education’ market.

While the ZX81 is undoubtedly the best microcomputing product to have been marketed by Sinclair Research, the ZX Spectrum is far and away the company’s most significant commercial success. More than any other product it was responsible for establishing Sinclair’s international reputation and his popular image in the UK as figurehead of the microcomputing revolution. Leaving long-term considerations to one side for a moment, it should be stressed that the Spectrum’s launch was a beautifully orchestrated seduction of an already eager market. By December 1981, sales of the ZX81 had hit the 250,000 mark, providing Sinclair with easily the largest microcomputer user base in the world. The conspicuous hordes of enthusiasts clustered around the Sinclair machine in W. H. Smith’s, the elegiac tributes to the working man’s boffin in the popular press, all contributed to persuading those without computers that the moment had come to move with the times. In an industry too young and confused to enjoy any meaningful traditions, veterans of the home-computer market awaited the new Sinclair machine with the anticipation of an annual festival. And Sinclair played his crowd like a master.

The phenomenal success of the ZX81 was a tough act to follow. Having given thousands of neophytes a taste for computing, Sinclair’s next task was to ensure that they remained loyal to his product range. The new computerates were already hungry for the colour graphics of Atari, Commodore and Acorn; Clive knew he would have to come up with the goods at a price they could afford. For those who had yet to take the plunge, the company had to devise a marketing strategy that broadened the appeal of the new product.

As a first stage in his effort to expand the home-computer market, Sinclair devoted his attention to improving the appearance of his new product. In spite of attracting a Design Council award, the ZX81 wasn’t much to look at. According to marketing development manager John Rowland, one of the biggest problems facing W. H. Smith when it started selling the ZX81 was that of display. How do you promote ‘a lump of plastic shaped like a wedge of cheese’ so that it looks as if it’s worth seventy quid? The ZX81’s design was still tethered to the hobbyist tradition and Sinclair was determined that the Spectrum would make the leap into the sleeker style of mainstream consumer electronics.

Rick Dickinson was Sinclair Research’s resident industrial designer and was responsible for the internal and external appearance of all products since the ZX80. In an interview he explained the type of concerns that informed the Spectrum’s design:

[The Spectrum] is a step up-market and I was really trying hard for a super-smart machine. It is not for quite the same amateur market ... We spent a great deal of time on [the keyboard]. It is the only interface between the user and the product and it has to be right. We were trying also to cram on more information than anyone had ever done. I believe that form should follow function. (Sinclair User, August 1982.)

As far as newcomers to computing were concerned, Dickinson had done a great job. In spite of his form-should-follow-function maxim, the outward appearance of the Spectrum worked best as an abstraction. In the full-page colour adverts, the machine effortlessly looked the part of the consumer-electronics artefact. For those who didn’t know one end of a computer from the other, the mysterious words and symbols in a multitude of colours were part and parcel of the micro mystique. For those who thought they knew one end of a computer from the other, the experience of defeat when faced with the Spectrum’s keyboard was less compelling.

Like so much that was wrong with the Spectrum, its absurdly complex keyboard was the result of shortsighted economies in product development. The adoption of single-keystroke BASIC was a tolerable idiosyncrasy of the early products that became a serious liability as the range matured. As ZX BASIC was expanded, it became practically impossible to display every keyword and symbol clearly on an already cramped keyboard. This shortcoming was disastrous for the beginners for whom the machine was intended. Even the simplest operation became a major performance, as reviewers were quick to point out:

The BASIC is still programmed using the single-key technique which the ZX80 and ZX81 exploited but, and it is a big BUT, this has now got to the point where it is rather silly. Because there are so many functions crammed on to each key, generally five, there are now two levels of Shift. In fact, to type in some of the more commonly used BASIC commands takes more keypresses than there are letters in the command! (Computing Today, August 1982.)

Fortunately for Sinclair, suspense and anticipation blunted the critical faculties of the eager millions. As the April 1982 launch date drew close, editorials of the day took the tone of prayers to micro computing’s high priest:

Let us hope firstly that Clive Sinclair does launch a ZX82 and secondly, that when he does it is not a replacement for the ZX81, as the ZX81 was for the ZX80, but that he has carefully designed his new computer to fill the gaping hole between the ZX81 and the BBC Microcomputer. Then ZX81 users, and all the ZX81 support companies which have sprung up in the last year, will have something to look forward to. (Your Computer, March 1982.)

Amen! As far as the converted were concerned, Sinclair gave them the upgrade for which they were waiting. A colour computer with 16K or 48K of RAM at £125 and £175 respectively. Owners of more sophisticated micros could no longer sneer at the black and white blocks that passed for graphics on the ZX81. As far as first-time buyers were concerned, Sinclair could offer the first cogent reason for introducing a micro into the home. The inclusion of colour graphics allowed software houses to produce believable reproductions of the shoot-‘em-up games found in the arcades. If you weren’t interested in programming, then you could think of your Spectrum as a home entertainment centre. The explosion of games software that followed the Spectrum’s launch was to be a critical factor in the massive expansion of the microcomputer market.

Unlike that of the ZX80 and ZX81, the development of the ZX Spectrum was not completed in a spirit of harmony and co-operation. From the outset, there were disagreements between Nine Tiles and its clients about how the project should be approached. According to Steven Vickers, ‘Clive’s strategy of getting [the Spectrum] out fast relied on making as few changes as possible to the ZX81.’ The software for the ZX80 had been specifically designed for a machine with very little memory. The programmers felt that a structure intended for a 1K system was inappropriate for the processing requirements of a 16K or 48K Spectrum. With the ZX81, Sinclair had made it clear that little of the ZX80 code should be rewritten but that instead the expansion modules should simply be grafted on to the original base. The feeling at Nine Tiles was that although this approach was tolerable for the ZX81, such economies could be disastrous for the Spectrum. They believed that the resultant software would flounder because of the inadequacies of an inappropriate structure:

Certainly with the Spectrum we wanted to rewrite the code, but there wasn’t the time and there definitely wasn’t the resources. At every point [in the development of the ZX range] Clive wanted the maximum new facilities for the minimum money. (Interview with John Grant, 8 September 1985.)