What was the Segway?
The Segway was a two-wheeled, self-balancing personal transporter developed by inventor Dean Kamen and his company DEKA Research and Development Corp. An engineering marvel, the scooter used a combination of gyroscopes, sensors, and software components to achieve dynamic stabilization. It was the first transportation device of its kind.
Kamen and his small group of engineers secretly developed the Segway throughout the 1990s. They thought it would change the world by reducing our dependence on fossil fuels and freeing cities of auto congestion. Some tech insiders agreed, including Apple founder Steve Jobs, who claimed the scooter would convince people to “architect cities around it.”
Even the journalist writing a book about the invention was sworn to keep the secret when shopping the title to publishers. The vague promise of a product that would be “the future of transportation” piqued curiosity—and amped up expectations. In 2001, in one of the world’s first viral sensations, news broadcasts, radio shows, and internet forums feasted on the speculation. Some imagined Jetsonian futures with flying cars and moving sidewalks, while others hoped for hovercrafts and jetpacks.
Finally revealed on Good Morning America, the Segway received primarily positive reviews. Clearly, however, the anticipation and mystery contributed to a public letdown. It was considered, with disappointment, just a scooter. As Dianne Sawyer remarked at the unveiling, “That’s it? That can’t be it?”
Why did Segway fail to reach mass adoption?
Though its founder anticipated selling as many as 10,000 units per week, Segway Inc. sold barely that many over its first two years. Individual and institutional customers alike declined to adopt it. Within a few years, the “future of innovation” was just a low-selling novelty.
Kamen gave up on his invention in 2009. Sales dwindled under two subsequent owners until production ceased in 2020. In addition to the deterrent of a high price, the Segway entered a culture that loved cars and designed its infrastructure around them. Also, while the engineering design was impressive, it didn’t necessarily fulfill an actual need or want. The device eventually became the butt of jokes for its perceived extreme nerdiness.
Any of these factors might have nevertheless tanked the product. But the lack of a proactive marketing strategy—while development went on in total secrecy—didn’t give the company a chance to head off any potential pitfalls.
In this story, you’ll read about what went wrong with Segway, and the tactics the company could have tried to achieve better adoption—instead of quickly becoming a cultural footnote.
1. All for one and none for all
After testing the Segway, Jeff Bezos declared it “a product so revolutionary, you’ll have no problem selling it.” When it finally became available to consumers, however, he was proven wrong.
Available to consumers in 2002, the first model of the Segway PT boasted a price tag of $5,000. As pricey as a good used car, it was out of reach for most of the American market—especially since many saw the Segway as just a high-tech scooter. It became a niche product nearly immediately, attracting mainly young, affluent tech enthusiasts.
Afflicted with inventor’s paranoia, Kamen guarded the secrecy of his greatest invention, including muzzling his own marketing department.
Throughout development, Kamen prohibited his team from conducting market research, fearing leaks. When they should have been identifying price points and key markets, the department sat idle, belittled by their own boss with the nickname “The Three Marketeers.”
With no pulse for the market, Segway Inc. failed to match its product with a price customers would accept. Assuming their product would sell simply because it was innovative proved fatal. The enormous price tag kept it off-limits for most Americans.
Segway sold fewer than 20,000 units in its first four years. The off-putting price resulted in a symbolic irony as well. The invention intended to transform mobility for the masses ended up as a novelty for the elite. If it had understood its market before launch, the company might have course-corrected.
2. Innovation as a Product
In addition to his hope of selling to consumers en masse, Kamen dreamt of mass adoption of fleets through partnerships with universities, corporations, and other institutions. He tried to drum up interest by courting groups to try out fleets of Segways before the device hit the market.
Mass deals with companies, colleges, and local municipalities never panned out, however. One of its largest orders, to Disney for its theme parks and cruise ships, was for a mere four dozen units.
Even at bulk prices for customers with bigger budgets, the cost was too high—especially for a mere six hours of battery life. Groups that made the most sense riding Segways, like traffic cops, got the same functionality out of mountain bikes at a fraction of the cost, and never had to worry about losing their charge. Instead of adding the personal transporters to their fleets, institutions chose cheaper, simpler solutions. Even the police department in Manchester, New Hampshire, birthplace of the Segway, bought only four.
By the late 2000s, the scooter was used primarily by tour groups in major cities—hardly the large clientele the company wanted.
The Segway had a poor product-market fit because it was an innovation as a product rather than a functional solution Because it was developed in such secrecy, Kamen and his team failed to discover what consumers actually wanted or needed in a personal transportation device. Had the marketing team conducted research, perhaps the scooter’s fate would be different. The Segway failed to meet the needs of consumers and institutions alike, becoming just another expensive toy.
3. Rolling out into car culture
In the fall of 2000, pre-launch, Jeff Bezos had a good idea: test the Segway in a single city or country, then use the results to push for regulations in Segway’s favor. He believed auto industry lobbyists and American car culture would be hostile to a general U.S. launch and pose obstacles to needed legislation.
Kamen ignored the suggestion, hiring his own lobbyists to push regulations to allow the scooter on sidewalks. Segway garnered legislative support from dozens of states and cities by the time of its launch. But the measures fell short. Instead of widespread local, state, and federal support, there was an incoherent patchwork of policies. Some municipalities welcomed the transporter to their sidewalks, while others shunned it.
Segway lost potential customers who were confused over whether it was allowed in their area. Likewise, the scooter also lost entire markets to municipal bans.
Segway’s reception by society was inconsistent and, in some cases, hostile. Had the company taken the time to investigate and plan for attitudes about and limitations of its product, it might have achieved adoption closer to its goals. Instead, it created chaos and confusion, releasing the Segway without the support and planning needed for its scale. Without it, the Segway would never flood sidewalks, let alone change how we move.
4. The Paul Blart effect
Dean Kamen tried to convince Steven Spielberg to let the futuristic cops in Minority Report ride Segways.
Instead, the Segway got its film debut in 2009’s Paul Blart: Mall Cop. It was a hit at the box office, but a hit piece for Segway, used as a comedic prop to make the dimwitted security guard seem more pathetic.
The Segway had an image problem.
While users consistently exclaimed that riding a Segway felt cool, looking cool on one depended more on who was riding and in what context. The company relinquished control of that narrative by dumping its invention on the market with little forethought. So they got George W. Bush falling off one at his summer home in Kennebunkport. And Darth Vader riding one in a parade—not exactly the most coveted celebrity endorsements a company could hope for.
The progressive transformation from futuristic innovation to dorky doohickey caused a splinter effect among the product’s core market. Already too expensive for the average consumer, buyers not only needed to be able to afford the scooter, but also not care what others think. For most, the idea of dropping a few grand to look lame was too much, so they used their money elsewhere. It did not matter how great the technology was or how unique it felt to ride one, the fact that the Segways looked “lame” was enough for them to steer clear.
The harm to the Segway’s image from these gaffes compounded the problems of its price and inconsistent geographic acceptance. For an innovation to reach mass adoption, people need to see its benefits while it’s in use. The company left this part of its strategy to the fate of public experimentation, with damaging results.
5. A beautiful—and complicated—design
Even by today’s standards, the original Segway PT was incredibly well made. Manufactured with custom components and built-in redundancies, the scooter was designed to avoid breakdowns and accidents. It even had two identical motors, each with its own battery in case one failed.
It was impressive. But who needed it? And was it worth it?
The over-design caused the Segway to balloon in weight, making the batteries drain fast. All the custom parts inflated the price.
Despite its arsenal of motors, sensors, and gyroscopes, people could still get hurt on it.
As accidents became more frequent, Segway dealers started requiring safety courses. Many tourists weren’t willing to spend precious vacation time on a course before hitting the pavement. The higher barriers decreased rentals, ultimately leading dealers to purchase fewer products.
The obstacles to trying before buying—or renting—added another barrier between consumers and Segways. With units costing as much as used cars, test rides were essential for scooter sales. When it got harder to rent a Segway or join a tour group, however, people turned their attention elsewhere.
Could Segway have succeeded today?
When Dean Kamen created his magnum opus, scooters were plastered with Razor logos, and bike-sharing was a thing you did with friends. Rechargeable electric batteries were in their infancy, and smartphones were in early development. The idea of renting a bike with your phone, riding for a few minutes, and leaving it elsewhere would have sounded like a weird fantasy.
Today, micro-mobility is embedded in modern American cities. On every corner in every city, e-scooters and bikes are ready and waiting. The industry is valued at over $40 billion. The future Dean Kamen envisioned is happening.
Aesthetically different from any other micro-mobility device, the self-balancing transporter could have attracted people looking for novel ways to navigate city streets. Given current regulations and pricing strategies, it seems plausible that Segway could compete with e-scooter and bike sharing programs.
Kamen wouldn’t likely have been as secretive today because of the micro-mobility options that already exist. He might have fostered a robust, open-minded development process, including market research. With an actual understanding of their consumers, Segway could have reached mass adoption to become a mainstay in American life.
Even with the best strategy, the Segway would not have been world-changing like Dean Kamen wished. We still use cars more than alternative forms of transportation. Still, if it came out today, the Segway would at least be part of the micro-mobility ecosystem rather than a footnote in the history of innovation.
